


The Swan Prince

by the_7th_swan



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, BDSM elements, Curses, Dark Magic, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_7th_swan/pseuds/the_7th_swan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Tony, the crowned prince of the Kingdom of Fidelis, had everything he could ever want. Then the sorcerer Ari took it all away. </p><p>Now, on the run and suffering under the worst curse black magic has to offer, can Tony ever find his way home? And, more importantly, will he want to? Or will our prince sacrifice his kingdom, his identity and his humanity for something he's never known: love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> A story that insisted on being written so I won't be offended if its not your cup of tea. This uses the NCIS characters but isn't based in the NCIS world. Heck, it isn't based in the real world at all. In this universe, the world is divided into Kingdoms rather than countries, magic is very real and everyone is bisexual and identifies as either a dominate or a submissive. These themes aren't overly important to the story but the foundation is there.
> 
> Huge thank you to wintermute_lj who edited this. I'm currently building a shrine in her honour. Any existing mistakes are 100% mine.
> 
> Inspired by the story "The Swan Princess".

 

  
_I don't know what I want_  
 _I can't say what I need_  
 _I can't find my life's map_  
 _The whole world's a stampede_  
 _My hands feel so fragile_  
 _My days seem so short_  
I  _want to taste and savour_  
 _But I feel hurried and distraught._  
 _Things move so quickly_  
 _We dismiss and we ignore_  
 _We're blind to all the colours_  
 _That lie by our front door_  
 _I want something else_  
 _I want something real_  
 _And yet I want something magical_  
 _Something iridescent teal_  
 _I know it's a contradiction_  
 _And my own soul is unsure_  
 _I could live with having less_  
 _But I live with wanting more_  
 _I tell myself relax_  
 _But I can't deny the truth_  
 _It stares steadily back at me_  
 _And says coyly as a sleuth:_  
 _"Deny the many rainbow paths_  
 _Deny your heart its sorrows_  
 _But one day, someday, soon_  
 _You'll run out of your tomorrows."_

 

**Chapter One: Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow**

 

It was the first day of summer, during the seventy-sixth year of King Anthony XII reign, and the crown prince was causing trouble.

Again.

"This is such a bad idea."

"Shush!"

"We really shouldn't be doing this."

"Shh!"

"...Can we go back now?"

"Damn it, Timmy, _shut the hell up_!"

"What was that? Did you hear it? It came from over there!"

"Fuck! Run – move darn it!"

The two men scurried to their feet, throwing caution out the window and making a break for it. Behind them came a barrage of cries as the guards gave chase but Tony wasn't the crown prince of Fidelis for nothing –he knew the palace grounds like the back of his hand and lost the horde easily.

"I hate my father," Tony complained as he stood propped, panting and exhausted, against the nearest stone wall.

"Because he knows you too well," Tim retorted, red-cheeked and breathless, "Every year Tony. Every goddamn year. You're not hard to predict."

Tony scowled, crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

"It wasn't even that good a plan!" Tim continued, ignoring Tony completely. "I mean, sneak through the gate? What kind of strategy is that? Last year's plan was much better."

"And didn't work," Tony retorted. "And now all the walls are covered with thorns."

"We should have taken the secret passageway," Tim muttered darkly, "But _noooo_ , god forbid we do that."

"I'm honour bound to not reveal it to anyone not of royal blood," Tony complained for what had to be the hundredth time. "Unless you'd like to be left behind?"

"Doesn't matter to me," Tim bluffed, "I'm not the one whose father is trying to marry off."

"But you _would_ be the one forced to explain my absence to the King," Tony pointed out. Tim grimaced at the thought, conceding the point.

"Get married then," he suggested, "Then he'll stop holding annual balls and you'll stop having to attend them."

"Have you met the people he invites to these charades?" Tony asked, knowing perfectly well he had, "No thanks."

"What about... what's his name...? King Vance. He didn't seem that bad."

"He was _awful_ ," Tony protested vehemently, "What the hell was with that toothpick? And besides, Em-tac is so far away."

"I hear it's nice there in summer," Tim tried half-heartedly.

Tony's venomous look said it all.

"Tony," Tim broached, tentatively, "You have to get married eventually."

Tony sighed, running a wayward hand through his hair and bowing his head.

"I know," he admitted softly, "But I wish father would stop forcing it on me. Like love can be engineered. But it can't be. And I won't end up like my mother, Tim. I'd rather abdicate."

"Then Lord Tobias would get the throne," Tim reminded him, blanching at the thought, "Just imagine what _he'd_ do to the kingdom."

Tony smiled despite himself. Tobias Fornell was a good guy but a horrible leader. He'd make an absolutely terrible king and everyone that came in contact with the man knew it –even Tobias himself.

"At least he already has a daughter," Tony pointed out, "And, from what I've seen, Emily has a good head on her shoulders."

"There is that," Tim conceded, "But I'd still have to suffer decades living under Fornell's rule first. Urg."

"Fine, fine, I'll go to the stupid party," Tony finally relented, "Who knows? Maybe I'll find my one true love at this ball –preferably at the stroke of midnight. Isn't that how it's supposed to happen?"

"Beats me," Tim shrugged.

"Great heap of help you are," Tony grumbled darkly, "Come on then. If I'm forced to go to this thing, you'll be forced to suffer along with me. But hey, shouldn't be too bad right? It's only a ball."

He swept off before Tim could answer, leaving the younger man to fully realize the horrible consequences of his actions.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Dancers fluttered like butterflies, weaving intricate patterns around each other that repeated themselves endlessly in and out, in and out.

Tony was utterly bored.

Dressed to the nines and salivated over by ever Tom, Dick and Harriet, he had long since entered the ninth circle of hell.

"Okay," Tim sighed, standing by his side as always, "So you might have had a point."

Tony smiled despite himself, if only because it was true. Even if he had been actively trying to find a bride or groom it was clear that this wasn't the way to go about it. Everyone in this room was there for three things: his kingdom, his money and his looks.

"Anthony," a familiar voice called. Tony turned his head reflexively, eying his father wearily. Every year his father would present him with his favourite candidate and every year the experience scarred him for life.

"Hey Dad," Tony greeted when he approached, just because he knew it would piss the old man off. Indeed, King Anthony the XII eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Anthony," his father returned, voice as dark as ash, "I'd like you meet Ari Haswari, a Lord from Terra."

Tony eyed the man cautiously. He was handsome enough (more than, actually) and his eyes were oddly soft... but he came with the recommendation of his father and that wasn't a good thing.

"A pleasure," Tony muttered, nodding his head slightly.

"Prince Anthony," Ari bowed, and his voice was as sweet and gentle as his eyes, "I have heard tales of your beauty but such tales pale in comparison to your loveliness."

Was this guy for real?

"Thanks?" Tony tried, raising an eyebrow. He was strongly tempted to remind this guy that he wasn't a chick (thank-you-very-much) but, eyeing his father's expression, he thought he'd pressed his luck enough for one evening.

"You have a breathtaking home," Ari added, though his eyes never left Tony's, "The grounds must be spectacular."

"Of course," King Anthony agreed, giving his son a firm look, "My son would be delighted to give you a tour, isn't that right Anthony?"

"Well actually," Tony began before caving to his father's foreboding expression, "I was just about to suggest that myself."

"Wonderful," Ari agreed, looking far too amused for Tony's liking, "Shall we?"

Horror of horrors, he actually offered Tony his arm as he said this. Internally rolling his eyes at the gesture, Tony nonetheless took the offending limb and began to lead the man outside, heading immediately towards the gardens.

"So tell me a little about yourself," Ari requested as they walked through an archway made entirely of roses.

"Well," Tony began, a little sardonically, "I'm the heir to the largest kingdom in the known world, richer than most people put together and when I grow up I want to be a ballet dancer."

Ari snorted, halting their movements and eyeing Tony speculatively.

"You're more than just a pretty face, aren't you?" he observed wryly, "From what I've heard, you've caused you father all sorts of heartbreak."

"He's a manipulative old coot with a business sense that makes him a tolerable king and an intolerable father." Tony snipped, just to shock. To his surprise, Ari laughed.

"Oh, I do like you," Ari declared, smiling, "I knew the moment I saw you that you were something different."

Tony didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. He had to admit though, if only to himself, that this guy wasn't too bad. Better than the chick his father had hoisted onto him last year –she'd actually swooned when he accidentally brushed his hand against hers.

"Tony! Tony where are –oh! Sorry, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," Tony assured Tim, relieved to have someone there to run interference, "Have you met Lord Ari of Terra?"

"Timothy McGee," Tim introduced himself, still looking sheepish, "Sorry. Thought for sure Tony had run off again."

Ari grinned at that, shooting Tony an amused look.

"That's perfectly fine. Are you a lord of Fidelis?"

"Who –me?" Tim asked in surprise, "Not a chance. My parents both work in the castle."

"Tim and I grew up together," Tony added, "He's probably my best friend –as tragic as that is."

Tim looked torn between pleased and insulted.

"Terra isn't far from here," Tim decided to change the subject, "Nice place... but apparently they have quite a bit of trouble with rogue sorcerers."

"Oh yeah," Tony remembered, "Didn't they have one just recently? That lord?"

"I heard that!" Tim agreed excitedly. The complete dork –he'd always been fascinated by the magic arts and Tony knew for a fact that's he'd dabbled in some of the lighter magic, "That was last month, right? Can you believe it? What was a lord doing playing with dark magic?"

"Trying to take over the kingdom is my guess," Tony shrugged, "That's what the bulletin said: _'Accused of dark sorcery, high treason and crimes against humanity'_ was the phrase."

"Tony has an obsession with law," Tim confided to a bemused looking Ari, "He's always checking the list of fugitives. In another life, he would have been a soldier, mark my words."

"Some of them have rewards," Tony grinned, secretly pleased by the idea, "I'll have to look into that one again, though. I think there's something about it I'm forgetting... that's going to annoy me."

"Do you know anything about it?" Tim asked Ari eagerly, "Were you there? Did you know him?"

"You could say that," Ari agreed.

"Really?" Tony prompted, surprised and curious. He made to take a step forward and flailed slightly, finding his feet stuck firmly in place. "What the..."

"Sorry about that," Ari apologised gently, "I really didn't expect you to be so clever, you know? Still, you must think my manners entirely lacking, which I assure you isn't the case."

"What are you doing?" Tim managed, voice wavering slightly and as stuck in place as Tony.

"Ensuring the safety of my secret," Ari replied, almost kindly, "I don't believe we were properly introduced, young Tim. I am Ari Haswari, exiled Lord of Terra, all powerful sorcerer."

"Oh god," Tim gulped, trying to bolster up his bravery, "What do you want with Tony? You're a fool if you think the King will pay a ransom for him."

"I assure you, I don't intend to harm the Prince," Ari began, eyes as soft and kind as ever. It was beginning to creep Tony out, "I intend to marry him."

There was a long silence as Tony processed this answer before –

"You're out of your fucking mind."

"It's very possible," Ari conceded, the tone so at odds with the admission that it caught Tony off guard. "But I'm willing to rule with you by my side, young Anthony. Is that not a consolation?"

"Not really," Tony snarked, "And not going to happen. You want the kingdom then you're going to have to take it by force."

"Tried that already," Ari dismissed idly, "Does no good. If you take something by force you spend your whole life fighting to keep it. But... if I marry the only heir to the throne we can rule your father's kingdom legally and no one will be able to dispute my claim."

"I'll never marry you."

"Now, now," Ari placated, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Don't be so quick to decide. I may not be able to take the kingdom by force but you have no such recourse. Last chance, my lovely Anthony. Agree to my proposal or suffer the consequences."

Tony raised his chin stubbornly. He might play the clown a lot but, when push came to shove, he'd do anything for his kingdom and his people –and that included enduring whatever Ari could throw at him.

Ari, seeing his pride as the refusal it was, sighed sadly.

"Very well." He breathed, looking honestly regretful, "You'll not be able to tell a soul what has happened to you, either in words, gestures or writing. From midnight to midday, your form shall not be your own.

"I'd recommend that you never stray far from water –it, as your natural element, will dull the pain. But for this, your very first transformation, I shall provide no such mercy. Do keep in mind, as your trying not to scream, that even my death shall not end the curse. The only way to break it will be to place your hands in mine and swear in front of a priest and God that you belong to me. After you experience this you'll recognise the wisdom in that, Tony. You'll realize that you won't be able to resist me –not forever. Eventually, you'll do anything you have to in order to get to water and gladly give up your tomorrows."

Tony struggled in his invisible bonds but it was no use. Ari raised a hand and Tony's body exploded in pain.

It was akin to covering someone with gasoline and setting them alight.

Tony was sure that he was screaming, but equally as sure that he had no voice in which to scream with. His body was bending itself out of shape, snapping and moulding into a form that wasn't his, a body he had no right possessing. It was a violation against nature, against everything Tony was, and it _hurt_.

It hurt beyond words, beyond boundaries, beyond expression. For a single crystallised moment in time, Tony's body was built of nothing but pain.

Then someone was speaking and everything went black.

 

 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

  
Tony came to awareness slowly.

He noticed, almost at once, that there was no longer any pain. The lack of pain was so unexpected that Tony was unable to comprehend the very idea of it.

Then he remembered what happened in the garden and he groaned.

Only, it wasn't a groan.

Rather, it was oddly squawk-like. Starting to panic now, Tony clamoured to his feet.

It was instantly apparent that he'd lost several feet worth of his height. Turning his head, Tony also saw that he was covered entirely in white feathers. He gave a surprised cry and, as before, all that sounded was the cry of a bird.

"Tony?"

" _Tim?"_ Tony tried to say –it came out sounding nothing like that.

"Tony, just calm down," Tim begged, approaching him cautiously and settling himself within arm's reach, "Apparently you'll turn back into a human at midday but until then..."

Tony shook his head, took some deep breaths and tried to think. He explored his new body (still not panicking) and noted that his neck was long, his body curved and his wings (definitely _not_ panicking) at least three feet across. He was also entirely white –not a patch of gray on him.

He was a swan.

Ari had turned him into a swan.

He'd then proceeded, judging their surroundings, to lock them inside an isolated room in the castle. Tony, who knew the castle better than anyone, knew exactly where he was. He also knew he couldn't stay there. The pain he'd felt –it was pure agony. Water would dull it apparently, but Ari wasn't about to let him near any while he was still trying to convince Tony to marry him.

And, to be honest, Tony wasn't sure he'd be able to last more than a week under that sort of torture. The very thought of experiencing it again was terrifying.

Feeling a fierce sense of determination rush through him, Tony straightened himself up and took a step forward –.

–Only to fall flat on his face.

His centre of gravity had shifted dramatically during the change and, clearly, it wasn't as easy as knowing his new form instinctively. Tony wasn't one to give up lightly, however, and he climbed bravely to his feet to try again.

It was slow going. Tony was likely the least graceful swan in existence, and it didn't help that Tim was there to see it all –though, mercifully, he remained silent about Tony's lack of coordination.

Finally, he was walking somewhat shakily around the room, Tim looking on with a weak smile. When he was relatively sure he had it down pat (or, at least, when he'd walked a few laps of the room without tripping) he made his way to the corner of the room and began to tug at a tapestry there.

Tim remained where he was, clearly not understanding. Tony gave a sharp cry, gesturing his overly long neck towards the tapestry and, finally getting the hint, Tim made his way over and pulled the tapestry aside.

Tim had been certain the tapestry was hiding a door but it wasn't. Instead, it was masking the corner of the room and the fact that the two walls didn't meet. Instead, there was a narrow gap that led into another room. Tony, in his smaller form, fit through the gap easily but Tim had a little more trouble. Luckily, the passageway (if it could even be called as such) was only the length of the bricks themselves and so the ordeal was over with quite swiftly.

The door of this room wasn't locked.

Tony peered around the frame, using his new neck to his advantage. There was a slight curve in the wall to his left but he could still just make out the two soldiers that were guarding the door of the room they'd just vacated. Keeping himself as small as possible, Tony hugged himself to the wall and skittered silently around the corner, Tim following like a shadow.

It was annoying not being able to speak. Tony lived for lively conversation and it would have made things much simpler if he'd been able to explain to Timothy where they were going. As it was, all he could do was lead and hope that Tim had enough faith in him to follow.

Eventually, they made it to the library.

Tim looked around the circular room with utter bewilderment, wondering what the hell they were doing there. Tony, however, made his way right to the centre of the library where a magnificent half sun/moon lay imprinted into the stone, its slivers of light reaching out to brush the stray bookcase.

The circle of light that surrounded the half sun half moon was incomplete, as though the mosaic had been broken years before. Putting his beak there, Tony tried to tug. Tim, watching him closely, brushed Tony aside and curved his fingers into the groove, pulling for all he was worth.

The circle turned slightly.

Encouraged, Tim continued to pull until there came a soft click and the sun/moon sunk slightly into the ground and shifted to the side completely, revealing a hidden staircase.

Tim spent an awkward moment just gaping until Tony, very aware of how little time they had, gave him a sharp nip and hastened down the stairs.

Tim barely had time to follow him before the mosaic was rotating back into place and the passageway was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from an odd sort of mould that appeared to be growing along the very walls.

"I thought you were honour bound to never show this passageway to anyone not of royal blood," Tim whispered with the reverence this breach of trust was due and very aware Tony could have simply left him behind.

Tony, had he been human, would have laughed him off. He didn't have that option now, and Tim wouldn't have bought it anyway. The promise Tony had broken for him had been one he'd made in his capacity as a prince and the both of them knew how seriously he took such vows. Breaking one was a big deal and there wasn't any denying that.

But, to Tony, Timothy was worth a thousand broken promises.

 

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo _**To Be Continued...**_ oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 


	2. Always Faithful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim and Tony run, discuss what the hell they're going to do now and have terrible taste in names.

 

  
_In this life, we walk roads blind_   
_Never sure where they might lead_   
_But my road is steady, strong and sure_   
_With nothing to impede._   
_For I have a certainty with me I_   
_have a guiding light_   
_I have someone to catch me_   
_Someone to push and shove and fight._   
_I have a guardian angel_   
_To check my path for rocks_   
_And should I stumble on my way_   
_I won't end in the stocks._   
_For while nothing in life is certain_   
_My faith, I know, is true_   
_And couldn't be anything less than that_   
_When it's put, my friend, in you._

**Chapter Two: Always Faithful**

 

The hidden passageway went for miles.

Considering it was built in a straight line, this was curious indeed. Tony knew the castle grounds and they had past its boundary some twenty minutes before.

He was also achingly aware of the fact he didn't know the time. What if, come midday, they were still in this passageway? Tony couldn't afford going through the transformation so painfully so soon –he needed all his energy right now.

Without doubt his absence would have been noticed by now.

"I think I see a light," Tim exclaimed hopefully, pointing ahead.

The both of them picked up their pace, eyes bright with anticipation –which was rewarded as they reached the end of the tunnel, where daylight was pouring through a hole above them. Tony was also positive he could hear the sound of running water.

"I'm going to have to carry you," Tim noted, eying the steal rungs that had been expertly hammered into the rock, "I don't think you'll be able to fly up there."

The idea that he might be able to fly at all was one Tony hadn't considered –but in any case, Tim was right. Looking at the size of the hole, the smallness of the tunnel... flying would be impossible.

"Don't bite me," Tim warned, approaching Tony carefully and, with much fumbling, lifting him to his chest, "Gosh, you're heavier than you look."

Tony was sure there was an insult there somewhere and resisted the impulse to wiggle, perhaps brushing his feathers all over Tim's face in the process. Now wasn't the time for such things.

He'd get him back later.

Tim began to climb, managing the task haphazardly with only one available hand. There had been a moment when he'd stumbled that had likely been the most disconcerting moment of Tony's life –Tim's instinctive reaction causing him to clutch Tony too tightly and his whole body to veer sharply to the left. But apart from that too-close call, they made it to the top unhindered.

The exit was covered liberally with foliage and it took a few careful moments to clear it enough for the both of them to pass through. When Tim finally managed it, however, they climbed out into a brilliantly lit wood.

The water that Tony had heard also revealed itself, as the hole was placed directly beside a bubbling river.

Tony angled his head upwards, trying to evaluate how far off noon was. Judging by the height of the sun, it wouldn't be too long a wait. Becoming impatient, Tony squirmed within Tim's grasp, waiting until the younger man lowered him before making his way to the river.

It wasn't a particularly deep or swift river, and that suited Tony's purposes fine as he waded into it.

The first thing he noticed was that the water didn't feel the least bit cold, despite the fact that Tony knew it should be. He was also rather taken aback by just how easily he floated, the action taking very little effort. In fact, it was much easier to swim than it was to walk. Considering he was a swan, perhaps that could be expected.

Tim, apparently content to watch him, settled himself by the water's edge and leant backwards, leaning on his palms and tilting his head towards the sun.

Knowing Tim, he was currently running through what had happened and analysing every nanosecond. Probably while he planned out what they should do next and how they would survive.

Tony was trying not to worry about it. He was sure he'd freak out properly later, once his situation had time to sink in, but until then he'd concern himself with keeping Tim distracted.

A little gleefully, Tony swam towards the bank of the river and, ensuring he was properly soaked first, shook himself off. The water came off easily, his feathers resistant to it, and Tim let out a satisfyingly girlish cry as splashes of water hit him.

Letting out what had to be the equivalent of a swan laugh, Tony hurried back to centre of the lake, ignoring Tim's indignant yelling.

Noon came without any warning at all.

Tony gave a cry as it struck and the change began. If the first change had been comparable to being lit aflame, this change was akin to having all his bones broken and reset incorrectly. It hurt.

A lot.

Though the pain was a mere shadow of the one he had experienced before, Tony was still left panting from the strain as he found himself back in his human form.

And standing in the middle of a river.

Which, it turned out, _was_ freezing.

Grimacing, Tony waded towards the shore and climbed out, shaking his head and pattering Tim with water again as he did so.

"Are you alright?" Tim asked, at his side at once, "You're pale as a ghost."

"Exhausted," Tony admitted, luxuriating in the ability to speak, "But intact."

"Can you walk?" Tim inquired worriedly, "Only... we probably shouldn't stay here. We're too close to the castle."

"Yeah," Tony replied, willing it to be true, "I'll be fine."

He shucked his shirt to squeeze it out but froze when Tim gasped. Not sure what to expect, Tony looked down and found himself covered with marks.

It mostly consisted of red patches (like his skin had been rubbed raw) and bruises but considering Tony had been completely unmarked some twelve hours before, it was rather disarming.

"This is crazy," Tim breathed, reaching out to brush one of the bruises gently. It felt slightly tender but nothing more, "The change actually left a physical mark. This... this is really powerful magic, Tony. Way beyond anything I've ever seen."

"Why wouldn't it leave a mark?" Tony wondered, having no understanding of magic whatsoever.

"Majority of spells don't," Tim explained, "I think it's because you're being changed against your will. Your body instinctively fights it and so your skin stretches and you're blood vessels rupture slightly –hence the bruises. I'm beginning to think you should have married him."

"Wouldn't be any safer," Tony pointed out, knowing Tim was joking but having to say it anyway, "He'd have killed me within a year. Would likely have given me just enough time to bear him a child before slitting my throat as I slept."

"Probably," Tim agreed, eyes filled with sorrow for his friend.

"And there were guards at the door," Tony remembered, darkly, "We have traitors in our midst."

Tim nodded. Clearly, this had occurred to him as well. Tony wondered who they were. He knew all the guards by name and the knowledge that some of them could have betrayed him for the chance for more power was a massive blow.

"Can we risk going back?" Tim asked, the question forced from him, "Try to get to your father and have Ari arrested?"

Tony considered it carefully.

"Ari will be looking for us," he replied at last, "If I were him, I'd have men at the gates and spells weaved through every hallway of the castle that would alert me the second he set foot in one. Is that possible with magic?"

"Very," Tim admitted, "In fact, since you're under his curse he wouldn't need most of the elements that would usually be required. You now exist as a part of his magic and he'll be able to sense you as a matter of course."

"Tracking?"

Tim hesitated, frowning before holding up his hands in defeat.

"I have no idea," he admitted, "I don't know enough about magic or how powerful Ari is. He could be utterly clueless, he could be able to gauge a rough direction or he could be able to pinpoint you with a moment's thought."

"We can be pretty sure the latter isn't possible," Tony mused, "Or he would have known we were in the tunnel. Even if he hadn't known where it was, if the bond was that strong he should have been able to find it."

"Probably," Tim agreed, relieved at the thought, "But... if we can't risk going home, what can we do?"

"Can't send my father a letter," Tony said thoughtfully, running through his options, "Any messenger will be traced back to our location. Not an easy manner to casually ask someone to give one to the king, either."

"We can send one to my mother," Tim suggested, "Nothing strange about a servant getting mail from her son. We can send her one from the nearest village and move on straight away."

"And hide out until Ari has been executed," Tony finished, "If he manages to get caught, that is. He's already escaped once."

"We shouldn't kill him!" Tim protested, "We should force him to cancel the curse!"

"Don't think Ari is a man that responds to threats," Tony put in dryly, "Besides, he said that the only way the curse would end would be if I swore myself to him in marriage. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I believe that."

"So what, you'll just be cursed forever?" Tim demanded, "What sort of life would that be? What sort of king could you be? This curse, Tony... it makes you vulnerable. Your ability to fight back has been all that has saved you, at times. If this became known..."

Tim had a point. The assassination attempts had been few over the years (the majority being crushed before they had chance to take root) but there had been a few that had filtered through. Tony had even been kidnapped once, when he'd been twelve years old. Only the fact that he'd been fighting since he was five and sneaking out since he was eight had saved him.

"Looks like Tobias will be king then," Tony rebutted, trying for lightness and failing, "I'll act as his advisor. Surely, with my help, he couldn't be _too_ terrible..."

Tim looked understandably doubtful.

"If you've got any better ideas, be my guest," Tony snapped, a little annoyed now.

Tim lowered his chin and remained silent.

"No?" Tony prompted further, cuttingly, "Good. Let's go then."

"Ah... where are we going exactly?"

Tony didn't even pause, continuing determinedly ahead.

"Wherever the river takes us."

Since it was common sense to follow the river, for Tony's benefit if nothing else, Tim didn't complain and concentrated instead on keeping up.

Tony, keeping himself carefully in front of the younger man, kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead and fought furiously against the tears that so badly wanted to rise as he left the only home he had ever known behind him.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

They walked for days.

The river weaved through dense forest and in many places it was impossible to follow the river directly. This lost them time as they were forced to circle around whatever the obstacle was before trying to find the water once more. Sometimes it would take them hours (as it had when the river had flowed over a small waterfall) and they also had to factor in the time of day against how long they thought it would take to walk their way back to the water.

Their trip was further complicated by Tony's shifting. It forced them to keep odd hours in order to avoid him transforming while he slept. It was also easier for him, in his swan form, to swim as Tim walked but it wasn't always possible. In some stretches the water was too rough to allow for it. Tony had suggested he fly ahead but Tim thought they were better off staying together and pointed out that while Tony's flying skills were getting better (he was no longer crashing into random trees or falling into the water constantly) they weren't yet good enough to allow for it.

Luckily for the both of them, the river they were following was fresh water and filled with fish that, for Tony, was easily caught. This, along with Tim's knowledge of edible plants and knowhow about nature, ensured that they passed the days fairly comfortably. They were also fortunate enough to experience pleasant weather. Tony had been expecting a good old summer storm any day now, but hopefully they'd reach shelter before then.

In the meantime, Tony became more and more accustomed to his swan form and was secretly very glad they were far away from Ari. Though being a swan came with some advantages (like the ability to fly and his newfound skill in fishing) the pain experienced during the transformations was such that, had Tony not escaped, he honestly feared he would have yielded to Ari's demands that they marry.

Being nowhere near the man made him much easier to fight.

It was on the thirteenth day of travelling that they got some indication of where the river was leading. It was Tim that noticed it, sniffing carefully at the air and gazing thoughtfully into the distance.

"I think I smell salt."

Tony sniffed experimentally and, concentrating, was indeed able to pick up the faint smell of salt in the air.

"We must be nearing the sea," Tony guessed, "There's bound to be a village there."

"I've never seen the sea," Tim mused, "I mean, I knew the castle wasn't far from it but we never had enough money to go."

"I haven't been for years," Tony returned, wistfully, "Not since my mother died."

He looked down at his clothes, and sudden concern overtook him. He needn't have worried, however –what had once been the elegant robes befitting the crown prince had been rendered to resemble tattered peasant clothes' by the thirteen day hike. Filthy, covered in dirt and bruised to the nines, it was doubtful in the extreme that anyone would recognise him.

Not that his image had been widely publicised since his birth at any rate –the lack of a decent picture helped to minimise assassination attempts and, thus, few would have recognised him by looks alone. They could only guess at who he was by his clothes and the way others deferred to him.

"Do we have a cover story?" Tim wondered, "I imagine we'll need one."

"We're brothers looking for work?" Tony suggested tiredly, still feeling tender. Midday had only been an hour ago and the transformation was always draining, water or no.

"Brothers?" Tim echoed, a touch incredulously, "Us? We look nothing alike!"

"Half brothers then," Tony compromised, "We have to be related somehow. Otherwise, everyone will assume we're together."

Tim made a face. Since they'd grown up together, the thought of maintaining a charade that involved them being a couple was icky, to say the least.

"Half brothers," Tim agreed, "Same father, different mothers. We going to keep my surname or make one up?"

"Maybe change it just to be safe," Tony recommended, "I doubt they'll be looking for us publically –my father won't want to create a panic –but it might be wise. Anyone who knows you will immediately connect your name to mine."

"Alright then," Tim approved easily, "How about Swan?"

"You're a riot," Tony drawled, "Really. I'm in hysterics."

Tim grinned, utterly unrepentant.

"Its apt," he couldn't resist pointing out, a touch gleefully. It felt nice –almost normal –to be teasing Tony again. "You got any better names?"

"Smith?" Tony hazarded, "Kennedy? Longbottom?"

The last one earned him a strange glance and Tony pouted.

"What?" he defended, "I'm sure that's a name!"

"Swan it is," Tim decided firmly, "And, from this moment on, I hereby forbid you from naming anything, ever."

"Tim and Tony Swan," Tony tried aloud, and groaned, "Our parents hated us, didn't they?"

"You, probably," Tim teased, "Since I know firsthand exactly how much of a handful you were as a child."

Considering the amount of times Tony had pulled Tim into trouble numbered too many to count, Tony could hardly dispute that. Besides, he was rather proud of his mischief making –even the ones that had gone disastrously wrong.

"What sort of work are we looking for, anyway?" Tony asked, "I mean, you at least have some experience. I don't. I've never worked a day in my life."

"Which is why no one would expect it," Tim pointed out, "Besides, you're really good with animals and... er... well..."

"Exactly," Tony agreed pointedly, "Father wasn't about to let me get _dirty_ , after all. Maybe we shouldn't stop at all –you know, just keep moving. Surely that will make us harder to find?"

"They'll expect that. Besides, the more land we cover the greater the chance that you'll be recognised. We should definitely stop –no one would ever imagine the crown prince making an honest living in some backwater town near the sea." Tim protested, "That is, assuming we can find you a job with which to make an honest living. You'd make a fantastic ruler, but doubtless the village already has one. I'll suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Tony didn't find that at all encouraging.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

It took another three days to reach the place where the river met the sea.

This was mostly due to Tony's bothersome transformations. The only positive thing that could be said about them was that they'd both become very skilled at judging how close midday was by the height of the sun. Even so, the very first thing Tony planned on buying when he reached the town was a watch.

When they finally reached the ocean and left dense woodland behind for gentle earth and sand it was dawn and, as such, Tony was in his swan form swimming as Tim stumbled along, too preoccupied by the awe-inspiring endless expanse of water to bother with coordination.

The river was very wide right near the ocean, but not altogether very deep. The expected town wasn't far; it could actually be seen from the banks. It was on slightly higher ground, where the soil was firmer and not consisting only of sand. It didn't look very large at all from a distance. The docks they'd built were filled with boats and it was clear from a glance that the majority of the town's wealth came from the sea.

"We should wait here until you turn back," Tim suggested, taking a seat and staying carefully out of sight, "Look at how close the town is to the ocean! Shouldn't be too hard to sneak down twice a day, huh?"

Tony, of course, said nothing and instead occupied himself with playing in the shallows as he waited for midday. When the sun was nearly at its highest, he paddled towards the shore and climbed carefully out, staying in water only shallow enough to cover his webbed feet.

Midday came and with it the familiar agony only experienced by having every bone in one's body broken and set crooked.

Tim was ready to lend support as the change completed itself and Tony allowed himself to lean against him for a moment while he caught his breath.

Then they began their journey once again. They decided that, since reaching the town from the direction of the forest was too noticeable, they'd circle the town in a large loop and enter by the road –a voyage that took up most of their day. By the time they reached the gravel road leading into town, the sun was setting.

After spending so long trekking through wilderness, it was a nice change of pace to have a level road to walk, and Tony found himself feeling optimistically cheerful.

They came up to the town quickly, pausing just beside an intricate sign that had clearly been placed there some time ago.

 

' _ **Welcome to Semper.'**_

"Never heard of it," Tony proclaimed grandly, "When I was young, we always went to Long Island or Fork. We're pretty close to the western boarder of Fidelis, I think. Usually my mother took us east, where it's warmer."

Tim shrugged, knowing less about geography than Tony. Together, they made their way into the town.

Their presence was noticed almost immediately.

This was in no small part due to the fact that there was some sort of celebration taking place. What was possibly the entire village was gathered in the streets, circling around a woman no older than Tony who was pink-faced and beaming.

"Hi!" a woman greeted them exuberantly, spotting them and bouncing over, "I'm Abby!"

Tony and Tim stared at her blankly.

The both of them, very accustomed to the posh conformist standards of palace life, had never met anyone like her. Tony, who considered himself something of a rebel at times, knew that he'd never measure up to Abby's standards. Not only was she decked out almost entirely in black, her shoes were the strangest things Tony had ever seen. There was also, Tony noted, a tattoo of a spider web on her neck.

"I'm Tony Swan," Tony introduced himself at last, recovering well before Tim, "And this is my brother Tim."

"Nice to meet ya!" Abby chirped, "You chose a good day to come by –Kate's youngest brother just had his first kid so she's going to go see him. This is our goodbye party!"

"All this for a farewell?" Tim wondered incredulously.

"He lives in West," she explained, and Tony nodded.

"The most western point on the continent, Tim," he explained, for Tim looked puzzled, "All the way over in the tiny Kingdom of Aus. That's a long way to travel."

"Hence the party," Abby agreed, "It'll take her ages just to get there."

"Hope she doesn't have to walk it," Tony put in, wincing at the thought.

"Train," Abby assured, "Lots of walking involved in-between though. We don't expect her back for a whole year!"

"What did she do here?" Tim asked and, seeing Abby's curious look, explained, "My brother and I are travelling around looking for work."

"She helped my parents and I keep up the local hotel," Abby replied, "We get a lot of tourists coming for the fish, the docks and the sea. One of you could help there, actually. Kate's leaving me short-staffed."

"Tim could do that," Tony pipped in at once, "He has experience working in a hotel."

"Great!" Abby cried, genuinely thrilled, "The pay's –"

"I'll work for food and board," Tim cut in.

"Oh, of course," Abby realized, "You wouldn't have anywhere to stay just yet. I could only give you a single room, though. That's all your pay would cover, anyway."

"We don't mind sharing," Tim insisted, seeing Abby's guilty expression, "We shared a room plenty of times as kids."

That was more or less true, and Abby looked tremendously reassured.

"So, where are you from anyway?"

"Long Island," Tony answered at once. He'd been there, after all, and it was far enough away that most of the people in this town wouldn't have heard of it, let alone known where it was.

"Where?"

"It's off the eastern shore." Tony supplied, "Probably a month's journey from here, if you had transport."

"Far then," Abby temporised, "You're a long way from home."

"When our father died we had to move on," Tim told her, reciting the story they'd planned in advance, "Too little money and too many memories to stay, you know? We've been moving around for over a year, trying to find a place to call home."

"Semper is it," Abby put in confidently, "No better place in all the world. Just wait, you'll see. You won't ever want to leave."

"It does look lovely," Tim admitted, gazing again at the ocean with stars in his eyes, "We'll have to see, I guess."

"What do you plan to do, Tony?" Abby wondered, changing the subject, "I'm afraid I don't have need for both of you at Semper Inn."

"He's good with animals," Tim put in, when Tony remained silent, "And math."

Over thirty years of studying under the best teachers the kingdom had to offer and that's what his qualifications came down to: animal taming and arithmetic.

"Can he sail?" Abby tried and they both answered negatively, "Build? Woodwork? Fish?"

"Not terrible at fishing," Tony admitted, shamefaced, "I'd also make a good soldier."

"Not much use for soldiers or police around here," Abby disputed, frowning thoughtfully, "Can you read and write?"

"Of course," Tony agreed, a little indignant. He wasn't a complete idiot.

"No _'of course'_ about it," Abby returned, "A lot of people here can't. Well, Joseph might need some help. He works the docks and keeps the records. Been complaining recently that he's getting too old to do it alone."

Record keeping sounded duller than doornails, but at least he'd be working near the ocean. Tim, clearly following a similar track, nodded encouragingly.

"Sounds like fun," Tony told Abby, forcing cheer in his tone.

"Great!" Abby exclaimed, all but jumping up and down on the spot, "Come on, I'll introduce you!"

Before Tony could put a word in edgewise, he found himself being dragged away, with a bemused Tim following at his heels.

"Joe! Hey Joseph!"

A red-haired man turned, cocking an eyebrow at Abby and her bemused companion.

"This here is Tony Swan," Abby put forth, all but shoving Tony forwards, "He wants to help you out at the dock!"

"That so?" Joseph mused rhetorically, eyeing Tony shrewdly, "Know anything about boats?"

"They float?" Tony tried.

Joseph barked a laugh, taken by surprise by the cavalier response.

"Oh, I like you," he boomed, "You start tomorrow at six."

"Ah...excuse me? Sir?" Tim pipped up tentatively, "My brother suffers from anaemia as well as various other medical conditions. He can only work the hours between midday and midnight."

"Anaemia, huh?" Joseph echoed, "That explains the bruises, I suppose?"

"Yes sir," Tim agreed.

"You start midday then," Joseph compromised, "You'll be keeping longer hours if you want a full days wage, however."

"That's fine," Tony assured and Joseph nodded, turning away. Tony confronted Tim at once.

"I have bruises that are visible?"

"Your cheek," Tim replied, pointing to his own as a mirror, "From the base of your left eye to your jaw."

"I was worried you'd been mugged," Abby put in, somehow managing to sound both sympathetic as well as cheerful, "The roads aren't always safe."

"We didn't have any trouble," Tony promised, "But now everyone will be looking at me strangely."

"And that would be different how...?"

Tony socked Tim's shoulder for the quip, but the man had a point. Being the crown prince was a position that came with its fair share of idiotic people gaping. Usually, Tony didn't mind. There had been times when he'd even revelled in the attention.

This, however, wasn't one such situation.

"Don't worry about them," Abby advised, and perhaps she was best suited to know, "Just be yourself!"

It sounded like some preschool catchphrase, but it was sound enough advice.

"I'll introduce you around. Kate first –you should meet her before she has to leave."

Kate was a pretty brown haired girl who was grinning so widely it looked physically painful. She eyed them curiously when Abby dragged them over.

"Tony Swan, at your service." Tony greeted, grinning.

Apparently, that was the wrong way to go about it. Five minutes later, Kate and Tony were bickering fiercely. Usually, Tony didn't unleash his rapier wit around the fairer sex but there was just something about Kate that needled at him.

"You've never sailed before?"

"I never got around to it," Tony defended himself. Kate looked incredulous.

"With what?" she demanded, "How'd you live on Long Island and not go sailing?"

"I went on boats," Tony argued, "I was just... never the one steering them."

"You do look like the type to let everyone else do all the work."

"As opposed to those who use their gender to excuse their limitations?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kate asked threateningly, "I could beat you senseless if I was blindfolded."

"I'd never hit a defenceless girl," Tony disputed.

"Obviously whoever hit you had no such compunctions," Kate retorted.

"Hey," Tim protested, having remained mostly wide-eyed and silent until then, "He can't help that!"

"You don't need to defend me, Tim," Tony told him, cutting him a puzzled look.

"She shouldn't make fun of you for something you can't help!" Tim argued heatedly, "It's not your fault you have a –er, anaemia."

Tony blinked and, without looking at a slightly blushing Kate, led Tim a little away and raised an eyebrow.

"Care to explain?" he prompted.

"She shouldn't be making fun of you," Tim insisted, "It isn't funny. You're probably going to be like this the rest of your life, Tony. And there's nothing anyone can do about it –nothing _I_ can do about it."

"It's not your fault, Tim," Tony told him gently, sussing out the real issue in record time, "There's nothing that you could have done. You're doing all you can do right now –just by being here, just by sticking with me like always. You could have left the moment we were free –it certainly would have been safer –but you didn't."

"Of course not," Tim agreed, and it was obvious the thought had never crossed his mind, "We're brothers."

Tony grinned. Tim drove him crazy sometimes, but there was no one he'd rather have at his back.

"Good," he asserted, clapping his shoulder firmly, "Try to keep that frame of mind when you're sneaking out of the hotel at odd hours, yeah?"

Tim groaned imagining it and Tony laughed, leading them back to a repentant Kate.

"That was over the line," she said by way of an apology.

"Don't worry about it," Tony dismissed, "Tim's always been rather sensitive about my condition."

Kate winced, not feeling at all better by the subtle reminder of her blunder.

"Tell you what," Tony suggested, having an idea, "Tim wants to send a letter to his mother letting her know where he is. When you get to West, would you mind mailing it for us?"

"There's a post office in town," Kate pointed out, frowning, "Wouldn't it be easier to just mail it from there?"

It would, but this way if the letter was intercepted it would lead Ari as far away from Semper as it was possible to get.

"But then you wouldn't be making it up to me," Tony observed smoothly, "You refusing?"

"I didn't say that," Kate protested at once, "Give me the letter."

"Tim has to write it first," Tony admitted, "Hop to, Timmy. Go write your dear mother that letter."

"Isn't she your mother as well?" Kate wondered as Tim scurried off.

"We're half brothers," Tony explained, "Same father, different mothers."

"I did notice you didn't look much alike," Kate admitted, "But there are odder combinations. I don't look anything at all like my brothers."

A smart aleck comment lay on the tip of Tony's tongue, but he wisely held it back and they managed to chat somewhat amicably until Tim got back.

"Here," he said, handing the letter over, "Please mail it the second you arrive in West."

"I will," she swore.

Tony nodded and Kate found her attention snagged by another well wisher, giving Tony the chance to duck away. He and Tim mingled lightly, wanting to make a good impression whilst not wishing to do anything too noticeable. Abby found them repeatedly and each time she did she would drag them around to introduce them to someone else.

They met dozens of people, but a few stood out quite clearly in Tony's mind.

Abby's parents were both mute and communicated with their daughter with intricate movements of their palms. The speed with which they went back and forth amazed Tony; he didn't even try to comprehend what they were saying.

Then there was Ducky. With an accent Tony spent most of the party struggling to place, Ducky was apparently incapable of remaining silent for more than five minutes at a time. Tony was taken aback to learn that this man with a light demeanour commonly found in grandfathers was the local undertaker. He also insisted on addressing Tony as _'my boy'_.

His apprentice, Jimmy, was just as interesting a character and spent most his time fumbling nervously with things, or eyeing Tony and blushing. Something that Tim had great fun with.

Tony got him back with Abby. Every time the girl was anywhere near them, Tim couldn't take his eyes off her.

"Don't work too hard on that crush there, Timmy," Tony ribbed lightly.

Tim spat, spluttered, and ruined his protestations by blushing madly and eyeing Abby longingly.

Tony was too busy laughing to tease him further.

 

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo _**To Be Continued...**_ oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the latest installment. Please read and review.


	3. A Strange Kind of Wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim gets a job, Tony makes up a medical condition and Gibbs enters the picture.

  
_The day was normal  
_ _Rife just with menial tasks  
_ _And then I saw you._  


  
_Our eyes, they aligned,  
_ _A strange kind of wonderful  
_ _As they caught my own_  


  
_And how can something  
_ _That was so ordinary  
_ _Come to mean so much?_  


**Chapter Three: A Strange Kind of Wonderful**

 

The farewell party wrapped up just after ten, with Kate protesting that she had to be up at dawn the following day.

Abby found them and led them to Semper Inn, taking the time to show them around. The rooms were all of a decent size and adequately furnished if not scarily uniform. The grounds were particularly beautiful and, most importantly, housed a small pond that was covered with a smattering of pink and white lilies.

"Nice pond," Tony complemented, "Is it natural or man made?"

"It was created as part of the garden," Abby replied, "Been there since way before I was born though. Pretty, huh?"

Tony nodded politely, but inside he was scheming.

"It's far too populated to use regularly," he told Tim in a whisper, "But it'll do in a pinch."

"Reckon artificial water sources would work too?" Tim murmured back.

"Don't see why not," Tony shrugged, "It's still water. Still, we'll find out one way or another at midnight."

He tried not to think about the pain he could expect if he was mistaken about artificial sources being just as good, and instead, distracted himself by familiarising himself with the layout of the hotel. The room Abby eventually showed them to was quite small but it had two sturdy looking beds and that was everything to a man who'd spent over two weeks sleeping on the ground.

Not that he'd be able to use his, Tony realized sullenly, because swans had no need for beds. He'd have to sleep in the pond which, while rather comfortable when he was a swan, wasn't as nearly as nice as a bed.

"I'll sleep outside," Tim volunteered at once, when Tony pointed this out, "You shouldn't be alone. It isn't safe."

"Don't be ridiculous," Tony shot back, "I'll be fine. Just stand guard at midnight and then go to bed. You can't sleep outside every night without arousing suspicion and besides, you'll need to cover my absence from anyone in a position to notice."

"There is that," Tim acknowledged, "I'll have to talk to Abby about leaving our room alone –that way I can just say you're resting and shouldn't be disturbed."

"Probably wouldn't be a bad idea to find some books on anaemia," Tony mused, "I know nothing about it. Some information on swans wouldn't go amiss either."

"At least we have access to a clock here," Tim pointed out, gesturing to the one hanging on their bedroom wall which read 11:30, "That'll solve some problems."

"We should probably make our way to the pond," Tony observed, "Check that no one's looking out their windows."

Tony left his shoes in their room, knowing that he wouldn't need them, and together they made their way outside. The hotel looked somehow larger in the dead of the night, and was eerily silent. The garden, however, was just as stunning under moonlight as it had been under sunshine. The lake, in particular, glimmered softly, reflecting the light of thousands of visible stars. Tony stepped into the shallowest part he could find, grimacing at the cold and slightly slimy feel. Unlike the river, this water wasn't fresh or constantly flowing.

Tim was carefully circling the lake, looking intently at the darkened windows for any scrap of light.

"I don't like this," he admitted, eyeing window after window, "This pond is too visible. I'd rather risk sneaking off to the ocean at midnight than come here again."

"I won't be able to change back here," Tony agreed, "If it's dangerous now it'll be even more so at midday."

"True," Tim conceded, checking his watch, "Ten seconds."

Tony breathed deeply and then it struck. Somewhere in town a bell began to toll the hour but he could barely hear it through the pain.

Moments later, the pond was playing host to an elegant white swan. Tony gave a soft cry of relief, for apparently artificial sources did count in the scheme of things. Clearly, the curse wasn't sophisticated enough to tell the difference –as long as the water was connected to the earth, he would be fine.

"Alright?" Tim inquired anxiously and Tony swam to the edge, allowing Tim to pet him. It was slightly demeaning but it helped to reassure the younger man and it felt absolutely wondrous.

"Good," Tim breathed thankfully, giving the swan a final caress, "I'll come find you at eleven, just to give you a heads up. Good night."

In reply, Tony tucked his head under his wing and allowed himself to be pulled into sleep.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Tony was awoken by a startled cry.

Ruffling his feathers indignantly, he peered his head out from under his wing and found Abby standing by the pond, a basket lying sideways on the ground by her feet and her eyes as large as dinner plates.

"Oh," she breathed, seeing Tony's attention, "Aren't you lovely? I've never seen a swan before."

Tony straightened slightly at that. Abby sounded so delighted that he couldn't help but preen slightly for her, an act that caused her to laugh. Still smiling, she bent to gather up her basket, which was filled with flowers she'd clearly been picking from the garden to decorate the hotel.

Tim chose that moment to enter the scene, slowing slightly as he caught sight of Abby.

"Hey Abby," he greeted.

"Tim!" she exclaimed, "Look at the swan! Isn't it beautiful?"

"He sure is," Tim agreed, shooting Tony an amused look that made him flap his wings noisily.

"Ooooh," Abby cooed at the display, suitably impressed.

"He is rather impressive," Tim conceded, muttering it almost too quietly to be heard. Tony swam circles around the pond smugly, occasionally dipping his head to inspect the stray flower.

"I should go get the others," Abby realized, still gazing at Tony in utter rapture. Tim was beginning to look a little jealous. "They'd love to see this!"

Which was how, ten minutes later, the garden became the grounds of an impromptu tea party. A dozen or so guests had appropriated tables and chairs from the inn and situated themselves around the lake, even going so far as to throw Tony scraps of bread.

One little girl was delighted, when her waiting patiently by the very edge of the pool paid off and Tony plucked a piece of bread right out of her hand, leaving just as swiftly as he'd taken it.

Tim, torn between amusement and envy, dropped by every now and then between his chores to make sure no one was making any moves to harm the swan. However, the guests all seemed too occupied with impressing onto the swan about how safe they were to even think about harming him. Since many had only ever seen swans as depicted in books, their fascination was rather understandable.

"Bit far from home, isn't he?" one woman observed as she threw Tony some more bread.

"That's a Mute Swan that is," her husband pointed out, "You can tell by the orange-red colour of the beak."

Tony filed that titbit of information carefully away, since he hadn't even been aware there _were_ different types of swans. Still... a Mute Swan? If nothing else, Ari clearly had a sense of humour, however twisted it was.

"Mute swan," another woman echoed, puzzled, "Doesn't sound mute to me."

Tony gave a little cry just to support this argument, making the woman jump slightly.

"They actually have the largest repertoire of sounds of all the swans," the man informed her, "They just don't tend to use them very often."

Tim interrupted whatever other information the man could have imparted by scuttling into the garden and gesturing at his watch. Tony got the message. He preened a couple of feathers into place, spreading his wings widely as he did so and making the tea party lull into silence as they watched him.

Tony, who happily had this down pat by now, launched himself into the air with a flurry of feathers, leaving a trail of startled cries behind him.

The ocean was an easy landmark to identify once in the air, and it took Tony mere moments to reach. There were also quite a few rocky areas where the water pooled that were out of sight enough for Tony to wait until the time came to change back.

It was a little boring, waiting an hour in a pool of water without Tim for company but at least it was isolated.

It wasn't until midday finally arrived that Tony realized he didn't have any shoes on.

Fully human once more, he wondered what on earth he'd tell Joseph. Hoping irrationally that the man wouldn't notice his lack of footwear, Tony made his way back to higher ground and over towards the docks.

Joseph, who had clearly been looking for him, latched onto Tony like white on rice.

"Right on time," he greeted cheerfully, slapping Tony on the back and leading him towards the main dock.

The docks were of an odd configuration. They started out as one deck leading straight out into the water. At the end of that deck was another deck, twice as large and at right angles to the first. Off the second deck were a smattering of smaller decks and it was there that the many boats were tied.

Joseph, whose job it was to record the comings and goings of all the men and women that owned the boats, held shop at the point where the main deck branched into the large deck. A strategically chosen location because, of course, it was impossible to reach the boats without passing it.

"This is where I expect you to come every day at noon," Joseph informed him frankly, "And though you're primarily my assistant, I'll also be lending you out to the sailors as they need you. A job which will mostly entail lifting and carrying things I'm getting too old to carry. Sound doable?"

"Yes boss," Tony agreed, unable to call anyone sir but figuring that would do. The title earned him a slight smile.

"Brilliant," Joseph agreed, "Now... watch and learn."

It wasn't long until Tony got the gist of his job. Every time someone went out Joseph recorded their name, the name of their boat, what their purpose was and the time. The details were the same when the sailors came in, except that Joseph would record how successful their fishing had been instead of the purpose.

"Helps us to suss out where the best fish is at," Joseph explained when Tony asked, "We also have to be careful not to overfish and recording the numbers helps us do that pretty well."

Tony found it pretty easy to keep up. Whenever a fisherperson needed help he or she would go to Joseph and Tony would be left to manage the roster. Unless the requested help involved physical exertion (such as helping someone carry boxes of lobsters or some such), in which case Tony was sent in his stead.

"You need more suitable clothes boy," Joseph observed as, by the end of the day, Tony's rags had been ripped irreparably. This was a job that made wearing long sleeves and pants not only ridiculous but dangerous. Tony had very nearly fallen overboard when he'd gotten his sleeve caught on the edge of a departing boat.

"I don't have any other clothes," Tony admitted, longing for his old wardrobe. He was an acclaimed expert in fine clothes and fabrics, and now, more than ever, he was feeling their loss.

The problem was quickly solved. The next fisherwoman had a son who was a little older than Tony, and she had insisted that she could spare some of his old clothes when Joseph enquired.

"Really, it's no bother," she refused when Tony offered his days pay in exchange, "Not worth paying for certainly."

She was back within twenty minutes and Tony was changed under five. The clothes fit him well enough and were far cleaner and more comfortable than his old clothes... but they also revealed a lot more skin. Tony, not at all modest, usually wouldn't mind. The t-shirt and knee-length pants, however, made it impossible to hide his many bruises.

Which, it turned out, had only multiplied.

"Goodness boy," Joseph exclaimed upon seeing him, "Your skin looks like a patchwork quilt!"

"Is it ugly?" Tony couldn't help but ask, uncharacteristically self-conscious, "I don't want to upset anyone."

Joseph's eyes softened at once.

"Not ugly at all," he assured Tony gently, "Just... striking."

Striking was clearly an apt word because Tony got more odd looks than a purple duck.

"I hope you didn't get those from fighting," one fisherman cautioned disapprovingly as Tony helped to lever his new boat into the water.

"I suffer from anaemia," Tony explained, for what had to be the hundredth time that day, "It's a blood disorder caused by a lack of iron."

Some of the bruises were in such odd shapes that this was a very hard claim to dispute, but the fisherman still eyed him doubtfully. Which was actually one of the better reactions. Some people had skirted around him, like they were afraid that he was contagious while others had eyed him with pity or fear, as if expecting him to drop dead at any moment.

Thankfully all the work at least ensured that the day passed by quickly and soon all the sailors started docking in as the light began to fade. Joseph explained that it was generally too dangerous to sail at night, at least for the bigger ships.

"Don't you have a lighthouse?" Tony wondered, remembering there had been one on Long Island.

"In Semper?" Joseph laughed, "We're far too small for that. Nearest one is on Byron Bay –you can actually make it out, see?"

Tony peered west, and there was indeed a flashing light further up the shore where Joseph was pointing. It wasn't bright enough to do the sailors much good here but it least it gave them an out in an emergency.

"It sits on top of a cliff," Joseph explained, "So it can cover as much of the water as possible and warn sailors about the dangerous rocks below."

Since Semper was pretty levelled with the ocean and the lighthouse was clearly built on much higher ground, Tony imagined that many sailors blessed its presence. He was idly considering flying over to lighthouse as a swan to check it out, but another returning sailor quickly distracted hin from that thought.

The man caught Tony's eye at once.

He had the bluest eyes Tony had ever seen, as blue as the sky itself. His hair, while slightly tinged with gray, was windswept and thick. His muscles were bulging as he carried a single crate up the dock. He looked like the kind of guy that could kick Tony's ass without even trying but at the same time there was something about him that Tony trusted instinctively.

"Joseph," the man greeted gruffly and Tony got the sense that this was someone that didn't smile or laugh regularly, "What's with the newbie?"

"Hey, Tony's alright," Joseph insisted, smiling more warmly than Tony had seen him smile all day, "Kate missed you last night Gibbs."

The tone was slightly teasing but it was still quite clear that the man –Gibbs, apparently –was not one who would attend such a crowded social gathering without being forced at gunpoint. And even then Tony had trouble picturing it.

They chatted affably back and forth while Joseph filled out the chart but Tony ignored most of it, more interested in observing Gibbs than listening to him detail what was in the crate.

It was very strange. He never had such an instant reaction to someone in his life, and he couldn't help but be curious as to what it meant.

"Vivian still giving you trouble?" Gibbs was asking.

He wasn't the first to ask after Vivian (who Tony had gathered was Joseph's daughter) but he was the first to phrase it in such a way –the connotations of the question were almost negative.

"She is a handful," Joseph admitted, "Takes too much after her mother that child."

Gibbs' lips twitched ever so slightly, apparently acknowledging a joke that Tony had missed completely.

"Speaking of handful, you need any help unloading?" Joseph asked him kindly, "Tony's stronger than he looks."

It was a bit of a backwards compliment, but Tony took what he could get. He found himself hoping that Gibbs would agree –he'd gotten pretty sick of helping people home by then, but in this case, he wouldn't utter a single complaint.

"There's another crate at the end of the dock," Gibbs pointed out easily.

Tony beamed, bouncing off to the edge of the dock where a crate sat beside the most beautiful boat Tony had ever seen. Tony knew absolutely nothing about boats but even he could tell that some intricate craftsmanship had gone into its construction.

Realizing that he was staring, Tony shook himself out of his daze and heaved up the crate. Making sure he had a good hold of it, he began making his way back down the dock again, taking one last look at the boat as he did so, just making out the name on the bough: _**'Kelly'**_.

"You can head right home after you finish helping Gibbs," Joseph informed him kindly as Tony approached, "Here's your pay and I'll see you the same time tomorrow."

Tony put down the crate long enough to except the money and give Joseph a grin before he was lifting it back up and trotting along after Gibbs.

Gibbs didn't so much as look back as he walked, nor did he attempt to strike up a conversation. Tony, who tried hard to follow his lead and remain silent, lasted less than a minute.

"Nice... fish."

It was the first thing Tony could think to say, likely because he'd spent that entire minute staring into the crate which had been carefully packed with fish and salt. It was an absolutely moronic comment and earned him an incredulous look from the older man.

"Well, they're very..." Tony continued, trying to save himself but unable to think of an appropriate adjective, "...slimy."

Gibbs actually snorted at that, shaking his head. Tony got the impression he was being laughed at rather than with.

He grinned back anyway.

"You know anything at _all_ about fishing?"

Since it was the first sentence Gibbs had directed to Tony, he counted it as a win.

"Strike quickly?" Tony hazarded, taking the answer from his experience as a swan. Which, he had to admit, was probably nothing like using a fishing pole.

The answer earned him another look, but this one escaped Tony's definition.

"Not a bad policy," Gibbs admitted, "Patience is another."

"Not my best quality," Tony admitted back.

The confession earned him a turned-up-at-the-side smile. Which made Tony ridiculously pleased with himself.

"I'd never have guessed," Gibbs grumbled, turning his attention back ahead of him.

Tony bounced lightly on his feet, as though to further emphasize the pent up energy he held. Though it had dimmed slightly since Ari had laid the curse, Tony's spirit was, as a whole, unblemished and he tried to act no differently than he always had. He wasn't going to let Ari destroy his life more than it had been already, and besides, he wasn't the crown prince in Semper. In Semper, he could be anything he wanted to be.

And who said he couldn't take advantage of that?

Tony didn't try to start any more conversations up and instead, turned his attention to observing the town. Since he'd been helping people carry things home all day, he'd gotten the layout down pat pretty nicely, but every little bit helped. Especially considering how much sneaking around he'd have to be doing.

Gibbs evidently lived on the very outskirts of town, as physically far away from the heart as you could get. They walked past most of the main structures on the way, including the Inn.

Where, to Tony's annoyance, Tim was waiting outside.

"Tony!" Tim called, making his way over and completely ignoring the death glares Tony was sending his way, "Are you alright? How was your day? You're not too tired, are you? Are you feeling weak at all?"

"Have you suddenly turned into my mother, Timmy?" Tony interrupted, shaking his head bemusedly, "Or have you been spending so much time with Abby that you've absorbed parts of her personality?"

"I wasn't that bad," Tim protested at once, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, you were," Tony parried lightly, trying in vain to ignore Gibbs who was, of course, watching them both keenly.

"Sorry," Tim muttered, looking a little annoyed now, "But you'd be no better if I turned up with as many bruises as you have."

"I don't even notice them," Tony insisted firmly, which was mostly true, "Besides, Joseph says they're striking."

Tim snorted.

"Vain," he accused but, seeing something of Tony's insecurities in his eyes, softened, "They're really not that bad. They make your skin look paler and your eyes greener."

"Great! They bring out my eyes," Tony paraphrased incredulously, "You know, I swear I had a shirt back home that was supposed to do the same thing. I think I preferred it."

Tim rolled his eyes.

"Can't have everything," he pointed out pragmatically, "But speaking of clothes, where'd you get these?"

"Donation," Tony admitted, "And speaking of which, here."

"What...?"

"My day's wages," Tony explained, stepping back hastily just as Tim tried to thrust it back at him, "Go buy some decent clothes. You look like a train ran over you. Can't be good for business."

"You earned this money Tony," Tim argued, scowling, "I can't take it!"

"And yet it seems like you are," Tony disputed, dodging Tim expertly, "Just take it, alright? I don't want it. I'll just use it to buy you the clothes anyway. You like maroon, right?"

Tim stopped fighting at that and managed to look slightly horrified at the thought of the kind of clothing Tony would buy him if given free reign. He finally sighed in resignation and Tony grinned, knowing he'd won.

"You're annoying," Tim proclaimed.

"You're welcome," Tony returned cheerfully, "Buy Abby some flowers while you're at it."

Tim turned bright red and his scowl deepened but Tony was magnanimous in victory and decided against teasing him further.

"I'll be back after I help Gibbs get his crates home," Tony said by way of a farewell, starting to walk again.

Gibbs was eyeing him strangely again but Tony was feeling too smug to mind his looks much. He cheerfully carried the crate the rest of the way to Gibbs' house where he placed it gently on the doorstep.

Gibbs opened the door with one hand, managing to carry the crate with the other. Tony noticed curiously that he hadn't used a key to unlock it and wondered if he'd forgotten or simply trusted his neighbours. The thought was dismissed as Gibbs turned to him after he placed the crates inside, clearly wondering why he was still there. Tony lingered on despite this, desperate for something meaningful to say; somehow, he'd wanted to imprint himself onto this man as much as Gibbs had been imprinted onto him.

"Er... enjoy the fish."

And that was apparently the best he could come up with.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, closing the door firmly between them without saying a word.

Which, really, was answer enough.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo _ **To Be Continued...** _ oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are enjoying the story. If you read, please review.
> 
> P.S. You may want to hit Tony over the head with a 2 by 4 a lot in the comming chapters. I am in no way responsible. ^^


	4. Oh Heroes and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Abby plays a damsel in distress, Tony plays a white knight and Tim plays a mother hen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry this is so late. Better late than never?? In any case, hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Happy Easter!

 

  
_This is a story_  
 _Of heroes_  
 _And men_  
 _And the adventures wherein_  
 _They save_  
 _The world._  
 _Here there are_  
 _Dragons,_  
 _Here there are_  
 _Devils,_  
 _Here there are_  
 _Saviours_  
 _And damsels to be_  
 _Saved._  
 _There are many_  
 _Different evils_  
 _And many_  
 _Different quests_  
 _But always,_  
 _In every case,_  
 _The heroes_  
 _Are there_  
 _Trying to forget  
_ _They're simply_ _Men._

**Chapter Four: Of Heroes and Men**

 

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Tim said of his day two hours later, putting away his newly bought clothes as they waited for midnight, "But all I heard all day was _'the swan'_ this and _'the swan'_ that. I think I learned more about swans that I ever wanted to know. Did you know they're the only species of bird with a penis?"

Tony laughed, sputtering slightly despite himself.

"Yeah Tim," he parried, amusedly, "I had noticed that."

Tim blanched and blushed, shaking his head in a vivid _'I don't want to know'_ gesture.

"Learn anything else interesting?" Tony grinned, curious.

"I learned that they mate for life," Tim admitted, "Abby told me that. She thinks it's romantic. She also told me that an adult male swan is called a cob. She's nicknamed your swan form 'Jacob', actually. She says it translates roughly into 'jade swan'."

"Somehow, I'm not that surprised," Tony confessed; he imaged that Abby probably named anything that sat still long enough, "Still, as far as names go, I could do a lot worse than 'Jacob'. Anything else? From anyone _besides_ Abby?"

"They're the largest known flying bird," Tim offered, "They can also live for up to thirty years and are fiercely protective of their flock. One of the hotel guests insisted that they were capable of breaking a grown mans arm if provoked, but I'm not sure I believe it."

"Don't think I could," Tony mused, "But... I might give it a good go if Ari was anywhere close by."

"I'd help," Tim muttered darkly, glancing at the clock and sighing, "We should probably go."

Tony got to his feet, stretching and attempting to savour his last few moments as a human before the form was taken away for another twelve hours.

"Thought I'd fly up to the lighthouse tonight," he informed Tim as they made their way down to the hotel foyer, "Check it out."

"I bet the view is amazing," Tim mused, slightly envious.

"We'll go up together one of these day," Tony assured, "After we've settled in a little."

"Sure," Tim agreed absent-mindedly, more interested in checking the coast was clear as they left the hotel, "Sounds like fun."

"Tim," Tony groaned despairingly, distracting him, "We're allowed to be out you know. It doesn't matter if we're seen right now. As long as no one sees me at midnight, we'll be fine."

"You can't be too careful," Tim muttered defensively, his ears flushing slightly.

"You'll attract more attention carrying on like that than you would by acting naturally," Tony tried to reason with Tim, "So let's up the pace a touch, alright? Honestly, there are snails that move faster than this."

Tim scowled but obediently stoped skulking around every corner looking for enemies and set a quick pace beside Tony. Walking normally, they made it to the ocean in no time. Tony, who had remembered to bring his shoes with him this time, took them off and hid them in a nook on the side of one of the docks as he waded into the lapping waves.

"Any warmer than the river?" Tim asked idly, sitting himself atop the dock and swinging his legs gently.

Tony splashed him with a small handful of seawater as an answer, making the other man splutter and glare venomously.

"That's a no then," Tim observed, flinching away from the cold, "Though it should be warming up soon."

"I won't feel it as a swan anyway," Tony shrugged, actually not minding the water lapping at his ankles –even as cold as it was, it was clear and soft. For a moment, Tony let his eyes fall closed, enjoying the fresh air brushing against his face, the sand oozing between his toes, the moon turning the ocean into a vast mosaic of dancing light.

It was in that serene twilight that the change came, piercing through Tony's calm like a bird diving into water. A crux of pain, a chaotic series of shifts, and a swan was by Tim's feet, swimming peacefully into the ocean.

"Goodnight Tony," Tim bid his farewell, standing and brushing himself off, "And do try to get _some_ sleep."

Tony ruffled his feathers, spread his wings and was off –rapidly becoming but a speck of white in a darkened sky.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The world was a different place at midnight.

It hung in a place poised between not quite bright enough and total darkness. The moon, overripe and blooming, bathed everything in dappled silver light and, along with the millions of visible stars, allowed Tony to have a glimpse of the world only accessible to birds.

He flied over the town of Semper, a tiny model beneath him, as he winged his way to Byron Bay and the lighthouse standing watch there. It was the furthest he'd ever flown and an exhausting trip, especially for one who'd just suffered through a change.

The view, however, was spectacular.

Tony lingered, watching the fierce light flash itself over the ocean. It was only when his tiredness became impossible to ignore that he took flight and made his way home –a much easier trip, he found, simply because he was flying down from higher ground, rather than the other way around.

He alighted himself in the pond by Semper Inn, knowing how much his presence would please Abby and hoping optimistically for more bread. With a contented ruffle of his wings, his bowed his head and drifted swiftly into sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

Abby was indeed delighted to see _'Jacob'_ in the pond and immediately pranced off to tell the others, leading to another impromptu tea party.

Which pleased Tony immensely, of course, as it did indeed result in more bread.

Tony, who was sure the attention would dull eventually, enjoyed it while he could, showing off for the crowd rather shamelessly. He left only when midday was too close to ignore, flying again to the docks and landing directly next to his hidden shoes a scarce minute before noon struck.

"Tony!" Joseph greeted happily as Tony trotted up to his station, "You remembered your shoes this time!"

"Yep!" Tony agreed cheerfully, checking his arms and legs systematically to see if he'd acquired any more bruises. To his despair, he had. Worse, the ones from yesterday had yet to fade, so the marks now varied in colour widely, making them all the more... striking.

"Please tell me there aren't any more bruises on my face," Tony begged Joseph who grimaced sympathetically, an answer in its own right. Tony groaned.

"Where?"

"Top left side of your forehead," Joseph admitted, "Looks like you just bumped your head."

"Stupid blood disorder," Tony grouched, wondering if it was possible to beat someone to death with a paper towel and planning to give it a go anyway if he ever saw Ari again.

"They don't distract from your charm any," Joseph informed him lightly, "I've had half a dozen people already asking after you."

"Really?" Tony blurted happily, bouncing slightly on his toes, "Awesome."

He was very tempted to ask if Gibbs had been one of them, but wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer –or for Joseph to wonder why he was asking. That wasn't a question Tony wanted to be anywhere near, especially when he had no idea where it would lead him.

"Quit boasting and get to work," Joseph mock scolded, shooing him away.

"On it boss," Tony chirped, adding a salute for good measure and doing exactly as he was ordered.

It was a nice start to a nice day. Tony, having gotten the hang of this job rather quickly, actually earned his pay that day. He lifted, he recorded, he weighed and tallied and did whatever else the sailors needed him to do.

But there still wasn't any sign of Gibbs.

After three o'clock, Tony stopped looking. Though he hadn't spent much time with the man, he'd bet his days wage that he was a morning person. Tony wouldn't be surprised if he set sail at dawn or some hour that was equally as ridiculous.

He was too busy to worry about it anyway. At one point, around five, Joseph had left Tony to defend their post alone in order to run off and help a fisherwoman untangle a net from... well, Tony had forgotten the word the second she'd spoken it but it had sounded boat-like and generally a bad place to leave one's net.

It took longer than Tony thought it would, which meant that he was forced to cope with both managing the desk and helping the stray docking sailor unload - a juggling act that made him wonder how the hell Joseph had survived without an assistant for so long.

He was in the process of tying a boat to one of the many poles that lined the dock so the sailors could disembark (a task that needed to be done thoroughly, but Tony was being forced to do as quickly as possible after spotting two men waiting impatiently at the desk for him to return) when he noticed Abby making her way down the dock.

She saw him at once, of course, and immediately bounced over to greet him.

"I can't really talk right now Abs. Sorry," Tony interrupted her pre-emptively, trying to sound gentle rather than stressed out and annoyed, "Joseph is out helping to untangle a net from somewhere or other and I'm swamped over here."

"Oh, of course!" Abby agreed, not offended in the least, "I'm waiting for someone anyway. Pretend I'm not even here!"

So saying, Abby pranced away –or at least, she tried to. Unfortunately for her the dock was soaked with water and her shoes, while stylish, were not built for traction. She went down like a tonne of bricks.

Right into the water.

Tony was, naturally, obligated to abandon tying the rope to the port in order to laugh himself silly. Even the sailors, who had witnessed the whole scene, were shaking their heads in amusement. Tony somehow doubted this was the first time Abby had taken a spill overboard and grinned even wider imagining her indignant pout.

Any and all amusement faded, however, when she didn't surface.

This was a fishing village. Everyone living there knew how to swim. It was a necessary skill in a town surrounded by so much water –a subject that Joseph had grilled Tony extensively on before allowing him to start working. Tony, a great swimmer even before he'd been turned into a morphing swan, knew that Abby should have bobbed spluttering to the surface by now.

Yet she hadn't.

Tony didn't even hesitate. He dove in after her.

The water was salty, slightly muddied near the docks, and hard to see through. It was also freezing, pressing against his skin with all the subtlety of an avalanche.

Tony ignored the pins and needles such a rapid change in temperature created and busied himself with looking through the water. A large lump of some indistinguishable mass hovered slightly before and below him, drifting slowly along with the gentle push and pull of the current. Using his long limbs to his advantage, Tony powered towards the form and the closer he got the more certain he was that the mass was Abby.

Her whole body was entirely lax, her head bobbing slightly in the water. Tony didn't have any time to consider spinal or neck injuries –without any finesse whatsoever he yanked her body to his and shot them both upwards.

They broke the surface with a great deal of drama and, drawing in a large lungful of air, Tony tilted Abby's head to clear her airway and began towing her towards the dock. One of the sailors from the boat he'd been helping dock was standing there watching the water anxiously and, between the two of them, they managed to lever Abby onto dry land.

She was utterly still on the wooden boards of the wharf and, frantic, Tony pressed an ear to her chest. Her heartbeat was sluggish and her breathing was non-existent. Pinching her nose, Tony covered her mouth with his and breathed.

Abby coughed at once and, tugging her onto her side, Tony patted her back firmly to help her remove the water from her lungs. Abby jerked in place unnaturally as she hacked, in tears by the end of it and resting limply in Tony's arms. Tony, keeping himself wrapped around her protectively, hovered his lips by her ear and spoke soothingly as she wept, keeping up his patting on her back and turning it into more of a constant stroke.

"What in god's name happened here?" Joseph demanded, apparently having been informed of the crisis.

"Abby fell into the water," the sailor explained, his eyes never leaving Abby, "This man saved her life."

Joseph swore (something Tony took note of so that he could be shocked by it later) and somehow managed to rustle up some blankets for the both of them. Tony shook off the one Joseph gave him and instead wrapped them both securely about Abby's trembling form. Abby had managed to get herself slightly upright to make the task easier but still refused to leave the safety of Tony's arms... which was alright, because Tony refused to let her.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked her gently as Joseph started ordering people around (asking them to fetch a doctor and some hot drinks, it sounded like) and Abby leant her head against Tony's shoulder.

"I hit my head," Abby admitted, her voice raw and choked from too much coughing and too many tears.

"I think they're getting the doctor," Tony assured her, smoothing down her hair, "He'll have you right as rain in no time."

"Where's Gibbs?" Abby wondered, peering into the crowd a touch bemusedly, "I have to meet Gibbs."

Tony, helplessly, turned to the sailor next to him. He'd yet to leave Tony's side and had overheard the conversation so far.

"He should be back any second now," the man assured Tony, "He's always back by sunset."

"Thank you," Tony returned, "I'm Tony, by the way. Tony Swan."

"Stan Burley."

Tony found a smile somewhere and gave it to Stan. He seemed like a nice guy

–despite the fact that Abby was clearly intact, he'd yet to move so much as an inch away. Tony couldn't help but respect that.

Stan smiled back, albeit weakly. A flurry of loud voices and chaotic movement came down from the other end of the dock, and a few minutes later Tony found out why as Gibbs approached. The man crouched before them and observed Abby carefully, but not so much as glancing Tony's way.

Reaching a hand out gently, he curled a finger under Abby's chin and tilted her head up. Abby blinked, focusing on him blearily.

"Gibbs," she managed, leaning into his touch, "The roof is leaking again."

Gibbs blinked before smiling gently.

"I'll fix it," he promised.

Abby nodded, apparently reassured, and leaned into Gibbs' body. Tony carefully transferred her over into Gibbs' arms, feeling all the adrenaline leave him as he saw her relax into the other man.

"You're alright," Gibbs murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss against her temple.

Abby muttered something incomprehensible, her eyelids drooping slightly. Tony made to get to his feet and swayed sharply, forcing Stan to steady him.

"Take it easy there mate," Stan scolded him, pushing him back down, "The doctor should probably check you over as well."

"I'm fine," Tony protested at once, "I can help."

"You've helped plenty," Joseph insisted, materialising out of nowhere, "Just rest. God, your brother's going to kill me."

Tony actually laughed at that, having difficulty imagining Tim harming anyone, let alone Joseph. Gibbs, who was dutifully keeping Abby awake, turned his eyes onto them.

"Stan?" he demanded and Stan, apparently understanding exactly what the man was asking, answered immediately.

"Abby slipped on the wharf," he explained, "She must have hit her head as she fell into the water, because she didn't resurface. Tony dove in after her and carried her back onto the dock. He also got her breathing again."

"I stopped breathing?" Abby echoed confusedly, eyes wide.

No one had the heart to answer her, and luckily, Ducky's timely arrival forestalled any need. Tony was slightly puzzled as to why Ducky had been called –wasn't he the undertaker? –but wisely kept silent as the old man examined Abby.

"A mild case of shock and a slight concussion," he diagnosed at last, "Some warm clothes, a good rest and she'll be fine."

"Look at Tony, too," Stan requested before Tony could consider making a break for it, "He's the one that saved her life."

"Indeed?" Ducky wondered, already subjecting Tony to his many medical torture implements, "Very brave of you, my boy."

Tony shrugged awkwardly, flinching away from the cool touch of the stethoscope and trying to look as healthy as he could.

"Any prior medical conditions?" Ducky asked professionally.

"Anaemia," Tony lied reluctantly, "Hence the bruises."

"Anaemia," Ducky repeated, sounding much more alert now, "Goodness, child, what were you thinking? Are you feeling light-headed at all? Your heart rate is perhaps a little quick –any tingling in your arms?"

"I feel fine," Tony assured him, "Honest."

"Your breathing a little too fast for my liking," Ducky muttered, ignoring Tony completely, "Anaemia! You shouldn't have gone anywhere near the water!"

"I couldn't let Abby drown," Tony pointed out, frowning.

"Yes well, it's directly to bed with you as well." Ducky instructed firmly.

"But Joseph –"

"Will be fine without you," Joseph interrupted, tone broking no arguments.

"Gibbs, Stan," Duck began, turning to the two men, "Would you mind escorting them both home?"

"Of course not," Stan agreed, speaking for the both of them.

"I don't need an escort," Tony disputed, a touch petulantly, "I can manage walking just fine on my own."

He got to his feet to prove it, but ruined the effect by swaying slightly. Stan placed a hand against his shoulder for support at once and Tony pouted, annoyed that he needed any help. As if the curse Ari had laid on him wasn't bad enough in its own right, it also resulted in fatigue and a general lack of energy. Saving Abby had all but sapped Tony dry.

"Right to bed," Ducky reiterated firmly, "Sleep off your exhaustion now and you can come back to work tomorrow."

Grudgingly, Tony caved and allowed Stan to support him. Gibbs, taking this as a signal, scooped Abby up in his arms, carrying her with an ease Tony couldn't help but marvel at. Abby, too tired to protest, leant her head against Gibbs' shoulder and stayed silent.

Tony, focused on staying upright, was too distracted to participate in lively conversation anyway. Despite his success in managing to walk in what was more or less a straight line, Stan still refused to remove his arm from around Tony's shoulders.

"I'm not hurting you am I?" he asked worriedly, brushing a hand hesitantly against one of Tony's many bruises.

"The bruises aren't painful," Tony assured, his tongue feeling oddly thick forming the words, "Just ugly."

"They're not," Stand denied at once, frowning.

Tony, a flirt at heart, couldn't help but give Stan a suggestive smile that all but said _'and your noticing because...',_ making Stan blush and Abby smile at them. He resisted the temptation to tease Stan further because, honestly, he didn't have the energy to banter. And besides, he felt strangely reluctant to do so in front of Gibbs.

"It's alright," he said instead, going for honesty, "I know what they look like."

"Your still totally gorgeous Tony," Abby cut in, her voice still raw, "And completely awesome to boot."

"You're just saying that 'cause I saved you from imminent death," Tony teased and Abby actually giggled slightly, though it turned into a cough towards the end, making her retreat into Gibbs' shoulder once more.

Tony, a little concerned by how ugly that coughing had sounded, was thankful when they reached Semper Inn. No doubt someone had run ahead to warn them of their arrival, for there was a gaggle of people waiting anxiously outside.

Tim, naturally, was the first to reach and fuss over the both of them. He all but yanked Tony out of Stan's arms to check him over while Stan watched bemusedly, appearing strangely reluctant to let him go.

"You're always at the centre of trouble," Tim complained long-sufferingly.

"It's not my fault," Tony pointed out, "Most of the time, trouble finds me."

"The hazard of being you I suppose," Tim grouched, "You look fit to drop dead. Come on, I'll help you upstairs. You should get some sleep before midnight."

"Midnight?" Stand echoed, eavesdropping shamelessly.

"When I have to wake up to take my medication," Tony lied, having quickly learned that blaming things on his _'condition'_ was usually the best way to go, and it shut people up quite effectively.

This was no exception, as Stan nodded. Knowing nothing at all about anaemia, he took Tony at his word on the matter without even questioning it.

"You need some help?" he asked instead as Tim hoisted an arm around Tony.

"I'll be okay," Tim said, turning him down gently.

Tony, beginning to feel a little bit like a ball in a tennis match, just wanted to crawl into bed and wasn't particularly fussy as to how he got there.

"Make sure Abby's okay," he directed Stan, giving Tim a tug to prompt him into motion, "She needs you more than I do."

Stan looked doubtful about that but nodded regardless. Tony, leaning more firmly against his pseudo brother, let himself drift off slightly as they walked. Without being entirely sure how he got there, he found himself being pushed onto a bed.

Which was, without doubt, the best thing he'd ever laid upon.

He was asleep at once.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	5. Wide Open Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim does research, Tony gets a close-up look at the Kelly and Gibbs makes a life-changing decision.

  
_The wind is freezing_  
 _Kissing my cheek  
_ _Like a lover._  


  
_It sweeps me up carelessness_  
 _Wraps me in dreams and  
_ _Severs my chains._  


  
_So tender and so fearsome_  
 _It's an oxymoron wrapped  
_ _In a simile_  


  
_A thousand tales and mysteries_  
 _A hundred thousand lost souls_  
 _It never relents in the least_  
 _As it calls, calls, calls  
_ _My name._  


  
**Chapter Five: Wide Open Seas**   


When the time came, Tony resisted Tim's insistent calls to wake up for as long as was humanly possible.

"Unless you want to change here, we have to go _now_ ," Tim snapped at last and that, finally, forced Tony out of bed and onto his feet.

"I'm really not in the mood for this tonight," Tony complained, throwing on some clean clothes haphazardly.

"When are you ever?" Tim asked rhetorically, looking as worn out as Tony felt.

"Any luck researching how to break it?" Tony inquired casually.

Tim stuttered to a halt, turning to look at Tony with an innocence so false Tony scoffed at it.

"There's a library in this hotel, Tim," Tony said, a touch patronisingly, "Of course you're going to read up on it. Books are your answer to everything."

"Not true," Tim argued in the tone of someone not entirely buying their own excuses, "But no, I haven't. They all seem to agree that the spell can only be broken by the one that placed it. The only exceptions I found were if the curse had an out-clause, or if the sorcerer had an immediate family member that was also magical and willing to break it."

"Out-clause?" Tony wondered blankly, "And what was that about family members?"

"Walk and talk," Tim pushed Tony urgently, ushering him out the door before launching into an explanation, "An out-clause is a term the sorcerer gives that would end the curse automatically –the most famous of which is true loves kiss."

"Like in the fairytales," Tony observed.

"Exactly," Tim agreed, "It isn't always a kiss of course. Sometimes it's the repayment of a debt, feeling remorse for a deed done or, as in your case, marriage."

"So my curse has an out-clause then," Tony mused, frowning.

"But it's useless to you," Tim bemoaned, "Unless you change your mind about marrying Ari."

"Fat chance," Tony scoffed, "What about the family member thing?"

"Some curses are blood based," Tim began, "And as such can be cancelled by a willing family member. The only catch there being that they have to be gifted in sorcery."

"Considering how rare magical practitioners are, I don't like our odds," Tony admitted, "Is my curse even blood based?"

"I think it is actually," Tim suggested, "Because the only way to end it would be by marrying _Ari_. Ari had to have tied himself into the curse somehow, or it wouldn't matter who you married."

Tony considered that, thinking hard as he walked.

"Any family he has would be in Terra," he muttered, more to himself than to Tim, "And likely not magical."

"Likely not," Tim repeated dejectedly, "Honestly Tony, if I thought there was a shot in hell I'd be all for going there and searching said hypothetical family out. But Ari was powerful –crazy powerful. I can't see any of his family members betraying him easily. He seems the kind to kill off any such threats."

Since Ari _did_ seem the kind to kill, seduce and threaten to get what he wanted, Tony could very easily envisage his family members being as terrified of him as Tony sometimes was. Most of the time, however, his fury was more powerful than his fear.

"We'd have to cross through the heart of Fidelis to get there anyway," Tony remembered, "Which makes the whole thing rather moot. I'd be recognised there for sure."

Tim sighed, dropping his chin slightly.

"I wonder how far Kate is from West right now."

"A long way," Tony answered at once, raising an eyebrow, "She only just left, Timmy. It'll take her ages just to get there and weeks before the letter would get to the palace. We're in for a long wait."

"I hate that we can't do anything," Tim bitched moodily, "It sucks just hanging around and hoping Ari doesn't find us."

"We can do something," Tony rebutted, "We can live our lives, however different they are now. Enjoy what time you have here, Tim. Appreciate it. Anything less would be letting Ari win."

Tim grimaced and opened his mouth before closing it again without speaking. He noted instead that they'd reached the docks and the vast expanse of the ocean.

Tony, his attention caught, busied himself with taking off his shoes and sitting on a dock that was low enough and close to the water to dip his toes in. Since it was high tide, this was relatively easy and Tony sighed at the cool temperature, tilting his face towards the moon. He was suddenly filled with a tiredness that stretched all the way to his bones.

The change and the accompanying pain were a mere moment in time, a pivot of agony before Tony was loose on the clear expanse of water. He was right near the boats and, observing them avidly, Tony swam around giving each craft the once over. Gibbs' boat, the majestic Kelly, was without doubt the most beautiful of them all.

Pressing himself against the bough, Tony curled himself around and was asleep in moments.

His slumber didn't last long.

Tony was woken, but not by the dawn light, or the arriving sailors, or even the pending change back to human form.

Instead, he was woken by rain.

The first summer storm had finally arrived and not only that, it seemed rather keen to make up for its lateness by striking hard. Tony, forced out of the increasingly violent water, took shelter under Joseph's desk and watched with amazement as the storm raged around him.

The table didn't really provide him with much protection, but then water didn't bother him much while he was in his swan form either. Taking cover was more of a human instinct, and swan-bound though he was, Tony was still ruled by basic human urges.

He was therefore rather taken aback to find himself drifting easily back into a light doze, even as the sky screeched for attention around him.

Dawn came, but the docks remain abandoned and the sailors absent. Since the sea was entertaining itself by throwing meter-high waves at the wharf, Tony was hardly surprised. However, as midday drew closer, it became clear that the storm would likely blow itself out by then.

By the time Tony changed back, the raging monsoon had lessened to a heavy drizzle. Tony slipped his shoes back on and looked around the deserted dock, wondering what he should do.

He was considering going back to the hotel and waiting for the rain to stop when someone made their way onto the wharf, looking as much like a drowned rat as Tony thought he himself did.

"Tony," Joseph cried, looking both relieved and startled, "I wasn't sure if you'd bother coming. As you can see, not great weather for sailing."

"It's getting better," Tony pointed out.

"We'll start to get a few brave ones now," Joseph agreed, "But by Semper's rules no one's allowed out on their own in the rain."

"Sounds like a good rule," Tony admitted.

"It is," Joseph returned idly, fiddling with a bag he was carrying, "Though not really necessary –most sailors have a second in command. Now come help me out with this tarp. With any luck it'll protect us from the worst of the rain."

Tony pitched in at once, for the idea sounded very appealing, and between the two of them, they managed to put the cover into place quickly. Attached to small hooks drilled into the planks of the pier (put in place for that very purpose), it looked sturdy enough, even if the wind did make rather horrible noises as it swept around the temporary shelter.

They'd barely finished constructing the tent-like arrangement when the first sailor approached. Tony was not the least bit surprised to find that it was Gibbs. He was even less surprised to find him alone.

"Gibbs," Joseph greeted, eyes sharp, "Horrid weather we're having. Where's your partner?"

Gibbs scowled, somehow the personification of an immoveable object.

"Don't have one, don't need one."

"Its Semper policy, Gibbs," Joseph rebuked firmly, "Since we have this argument every time it storms, I would have thought you'd know that by now. You know, you wouldn't have this problem if you would just appoint a second in command. You'd get more work done as well."

"I'd hardly call this a storm," Gibbs retorted, ignoring the rest of Joseph's argument entirely.

"What you would call it doesn't mean squat," Joseph parried, "Since _I_ decide who comes and who goes. No second, no sailing. Why don't you try asking Vivian?"

"She's a terrible second," Gibbs complained.

Tony raised a brow, a little taken aback that Gibbs would say as such to her father's face. Then again, it probably said more about Vivian than it did Joseph that the comment wasn't disputed.

"Don't see anyone else willing to put up with you," Joseph pointed out instead. Almost unconsciously, Tony found himself speaking up.

"I'll go," he volunteered.

Joseph and Gibbs both turned to face him at once, the former wearing an instinctive refusal all over his face and the latter an annoyed glare that made Tony want to shuffle back awkwardly.

"Like hell you will!" Joseph spat out at the same time as Gibbs demanded, "What do you even know about boats?"

"More than I did three days ago," Tony offered to Gibbs, ignoring Joseph entirely, "But I can follow orders as well as anyone."

"You're not going," Joseph insisted, "It's not an easy job, sailing. You're not built for it, Tony."

"I'm not made of glass," Tony protested, "I'm just anaemic. It's a medical condition not a handicap. Besides, I'm stronger than I look."

"You'll do," Gibbs shrugged, accepting gracelessly.

"But –"

"Great!" Tony cried, cutting Joseph off swiftly, "Which boat's yours?"

"Come on newbie," Gibbs called, leading the way down the dock and blocking out Joseph's spluttering with a practical ease that could only have come from much experience, "I'll show ya."

"Newbie?" Tony echoed, following Gibbs at a happy trot.

Gibbs didn't answer, instead leading Tony directly to his favourite boat.

"The Kelly is yours?" Tony blurted, forgetting for a moment that he'd help Gibbs unload the boat just days before.

"What of it?" Gibbs demanded.

"Uh, nothing… just that she's the most beautifully crafted boat in the harbour," Tony answered, thinking that a chance to board the magnificent vessel would be worth the forage into sailing, "Even I can tell she was handmade. I'm very curious about the builder, actually. Do you know who made her?"

"Why?" Gibbs asked and, for what had to be the first time since they'd met, he turned and looked at Tony directly. Tony, feeling the weight of his gaze, managed to meet his eyes head on without flinching.

"I wanted to know about the name," Tony explained, "I mean, Kelly? Kelly is the name of a young pigtailed little girl. All laughter and energy and mischief. But this boat... she's so sad. Everything about her mourns for something forever out of reach. Deidre would have been a better name."

Gibbs tilted his head, examining Tony like he'd never seen him before. Tony forced himself not to fidget.

"I made her," Gibbs admitted at last, pausing before adding, "and I named her."

Gibbs turned and ambled onboard before Tony could formulate a response, leaving the young man at loose ends on the dock before he finally gathered his scattered wits and clamoured after Gibbs.

"You made her?" Tony checked, not sure he believed such a gruff man was capable of crafting something so lovely, as broken as it was, "Seriously?"

Gibbs shot him a quelling look as an answer and Tony couldn't help but whistle lowly at the affirmation.

"Must have taken a while," Tony was impressed. He had wanted to return to the issue of Kelly's name, but having her creator right in front of him... it suddenly seemed like a very personal question.

If it was anyone else, that wouldn't have stopped him but if Tony wanted anything it was for Gibbs to like him, to approve of him, to feel comfortable enough to offer this kind information freely.

A little disconcerted by how intense their conversation had gotten, Tony tried occupying himself with the boat and pretending he had some idea what the hell he was doing.

Which he didn't.

At all.

Luckily, once they got going it wasn't too hard. Gibbs barked orders and Tony followed them. There was the occasional hiccup when Gibbs would use a word that Tony couldn't even pronounce correctly let along define the meaning of, but Gibbs would gesture and Tony would usually get the idea.

Despite the rain and slightly rocky seas, it was actually a nice way to spend the day. The water was clear blue, the air salty fresh and the task stimulating.

Tony learned three important things that day.

The first of which was that he loved sailing. The way the boat glided over the water reminded Tony of what it was like to swim through the waves as a swan. Only this came without the price of pain or being forced to abandon his human form.

He also learned that Gibbs had one hell of a hard hand. Tony, who'd been hit in his time, had never been smacked around the head so many times in the span of so few hours. Tony had resorted to calling Gibbs _'Boss'_ by the second head slap and, while the respect seemed to have help, it didn't eliminate the discipline entirely.

Thirdly, sailing was hard work. Seeing sailors bring in loads was one thing; being behind the scenes doing the work was another matter entirely. It was amazing observing and participating in what actually went into catching fish, hauling up nets and managing the boat. It was rewarding as hell, but exhausting at the same time.

Oh, and that he was also obsessed with Gibbs.

It wasn't something that Tony'd learned so much as something he was actively trying to ignore with all he could muster. But it was there, and, Tony's denial aside, it would not be disregarded.

Tony didn't know exactly why he was obsessed with Gibbs; his eyes seemed to follow the sailor wherever he went. He wasn't foolish to think that he would have ventured anywhere near a boat in the first place for anyone else. That combined with his fierce desperation for Gibbs to see him as someone worthy clued him into the fact that there was something going on here.

Which was a pity, really, because older men who didn't go to farewell parties, have many friends or made melancholy boats named Kelly didn't tend to be very open to making new friends. It seemed that Tony had his work cut out for him.

Or it would, if he acknowledged that there was a problem.

Which he was quite fine with not doing.

By the time sunset came, Tony was feeling happier than he had been in days, but there was a confused collage of thoughts and feelings on the inside. Joseph's relief at seeing them dock safe and sound provided a convenient outlet as it gave Tony someone to babble incessantly to about the brilliance that was his day.

"I'm glad you had fun Tony," Joseph said cautiously, eyeing Gibbs as though it was entirely his fault, "But everyone here missed you. Stan was asking after you."

Tony, so caught up on his high, had to take a moment to place the name.

"Oh Stan," he remembered at last, grinning happily at his triumph, "He's a good guy."

"Don't think he'd mind seeing more of you, if you know what I mean."

For a minute there Tony honestly didn't. Then his brain caught up with his ears.

"Oh," he breathed, curiously devoid of emotion, "I'm going to help Gibbs carry the crates now."

"Alright," Joseph agreed reluctantly, "Here's your day's pay. This is yesterday's as well so you can buy yourself something nice."

"I'm saving up for a watch," Tony dismissed, pocketing the money, "I really need one."

Even though there was a clock in the hotel room to let him know how close midnight was, it probably would be a good idea to purchase something he could take anywhere. Just in case.

Joseph merely shrugged, a _'do-as-you-will'_ gesture, and watched disapprovingly as Tony balanced a crate on his hip and trotted after Gibbs.

"Here," Tony said, finally speaking as he placed the crate down gently inside Gibbs' door, "I'll see you at sunset tomorrow, I suppose. When you get back."

"Why aren't you there at dawn?" Gibbs asked and Tony, after spending a whole day with him, was able to ignore the usual sharp edge to his voice.

"One of the limitations of my condition," Tony fibbed, shrugging, "I start work every day at twelve. Can't be helped, I'm afraid."

Gibbs frowned thoughtfully before nodding and closing the door behind him. Tony, who realized then that the door hadn't been locked, wondered just who Gibbs was that he didn't fear robbery. He'd never met anyone with so many layers before –he was like one of those hand-painted dolls: a person inside a person inside a person. There were so many different layers to him that Tony could never be sure what he'd find by peeling one back.

Tilting his head to the darkening sky, Tony pondered the mystery that was Gibbs as he headed back to the hotel to spend the rest of the day counting down the moments until midnight.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Midday found Tony trudging back to work after an entirely uneventful twelve hours spent as a swan. He was feeling a little dispirited for he knew the fair weather meant that Gibbs was long gone and wouldn't return until dawn.

"Ouch," Joseph winced upon seeing him and Tony's shoulder slumped, his morale fading further,.

"More bruises?"

"Covering pretty much the whole of your right cheek," Joseph agreed, touching his own in sympathy.

"Fantastic."

"You sure they don't hurt?" Joseph checked, eyeing him wearily, "Looks painful."

"If I poke them, sure," Tony returned, tilting one shoulder upwards, "Otherwise, no."

"You had this condition as a kid?" Joseph wondered, a touch wryly, "Cause it would have caused your parents a whole world of trouble."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at that, being able to picture such a scenario quite clearly. It was a good thing Tony didn't really have anaemia –as a child, he would have milked it for all he was worth.

Joseph smiled back, as if sharing the joke. He began to say something (it sounded like the beginnings of a question about exactly what sort of trouble Tony had caused as a child) but cut himself off halfway through, his eyes riveted at the water.

Blinking, Tony turned to follow his gaze. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but seeing the Kelly dock would have been at the very bottom of his list.

Gibbs, completely unaffected by their incredulous gazes, made his way to them without pausing.

"Gibbs," Joseph greeted, bemused, "I've never seen you dock early in all the years I've known you –not if the skies are clear. Hell must have frozen over. Did you forget something?"

"Yep," Gibbs agreed in that to-the-point manner that he had, "My second in command."

He turned to Tony and quirked an eyebrow expectantly. Tony lit up more brilliantly than stars in the night sky, turning to Joseph with a puppy-dog expression.

"Go ahead," Joseph allowed heavily, gesturing at Tony and shooing him away, "I know you want to."

Tony was off like a shot.

Gibbs, shaking his head in amusement, followed at a much more sedate pace. Tony, already aboard the boat when he got there, was waiting impatiently for Gibbs to arrive.

Together, they untied the boat and set sail.

Tony was much more confident his second time around. This time he had the added security of Gibbs having asked him to come along and, somehow, that made all the difference in the world. It loosened something deep inside Tony and allowed him the freedom to be himself –a self-confidence he embraced whole-heartedly, babbling happily.

"This reminds me of the play _'Joseph and the Argonauts'_ ," Tony rambled cheerfully, "Only without the whole golden fleece thing thrown in. Or maybe even _'The Tempest'_ , except that one had a storm in it and the characters ended up shipwrecked. I don't particularly want Kelly to sink... or to end up on a random island somewhere. Are there even any islands around here? Maybe there are but no one's found them yet! We should go exploring! That would be –ow!"

Tony rubbed the back of his head reflexively and sent a pout Gibbs' way. The man, entirely too pleased for Tony's liking, merely cocked his head silently.

"Thank you boss," Tony parroted obediently, "Shutting up boss."

Of course, silence and Tony were never a particularly compatible combination and within minutes Tony's mouth was running away with him again. Gibbs, surprisingly, didn't seem to mind Tony talking as long as he got the job done. Anytime he got too distracted with his own conversation or too carried away, he earned himself a head slap.

Needless to say, he got head slapped a lot.

And yet, Tony was so happy he felt like he could barely contain it. It was a beautiful day, Gibbs had deliberately sought him out and he was out on the water in his human form.

Tony wondered idly about how he didn't hate water and everything to do with it. Rather than turning him off anything water-related, being forced into a swan form made Tony feel a connection to the water that wasn't there before. While he abhorred everything about the curse Ari had laid, being a swan was sometimes quite an amazing experience. Sailing allowed Tony to relive the freedom without the pain.

When the sun started to set Gibbs began to navigate their way back to shore, and Tony found himself mourning the necessity of it. He was absolutely certain the ocean would be breathtaking at night and wished idly that he could see such a sight while he was human. While Gibbs stood at his side.

Joseph evidently wished exactly the opposite –he was so relieved to see them return that he visibly sagged with the sight of them. Tony couldn't help feeling a twinge of guilt at seeing him.

"Have a good time?" Joseph inquired, his tone suggesting he was hoping for a negative answer.

Tony tried to contain the brilliance of his smile but failed miserably. Joseph sighed and rolled his eyes heavenward.

"I knew you must be talented," Joseph muttered, "Gibbs doesn't request just anyone, after all, but since the only thing you knew about boats was that they could float..."

Tony shrugged sheepishly, a rush of pride running through him despite Joseph's words.

"Am I going to get him back Gibbs?" Joseph wondered resignedly, having already known the answer.

Gibbs shot Joseph a smile that wasn't the least bit repentant and the look on his face had said it all. Joseph frowned mulishly.

"Can you support him?" Joseph demanded shrewdly, "You willing to waste valuable time returning at midday? You are aware Tony can't work before then, yes?"

"So I've heard," Gibbs agreed, "How flexible is that?"

"Not at all," Tony put in honestly, "It isn't possible and there's nothing you or anyone could do to _make_ it possible."

"Then I'll have to learn to deal with it," Gibbs returned, as though it were that simple. For a man like Gibbs, it probably was.

"I'll miss having you around Tony," Joseph admitted, gracious in defeat, "You were such a help. If it turns out Gibbs can't pay you or you change your mind about sailing, there'll always be a job for you here."

And so it was that in the span of three minutes, Tony found himself no longer another worker on the dock and instead under the command of Gibbs, suddenly employed as his second in command.

A little bemused by how quickly things had happened, Tony turned concerned eyes to Joseph.

"If you ask me to stay, I will," he told the man honestly, heavily, "You helped me when I needed it most. If you want me here, if you _need_ me here, then that's where I'll be."

It cost him something to say, because it made him very aware of how desperately he wanted to work with Gibbs. The chance to work with the man all day (a glorified excuse to spend as much time in his company as Tony could ever wish for) was an opportunity too good to pass up –and yet, if Joseph asked him to Tony knew he would.

"Very loyal of ya," Joseph observed with a grin, "But not necessary. I'll be fine –my daughter will be able to help out if I need it."

Tony wondered why he hadn't had his daughter (Vivian?) helping out before, but decided to let sleeping dogs lie. Besides, he could hardly complain about how things had worked out. Joseph being short-handed had landed him a job, after all.

"Come on, Swan," Gibbs beckoned easily, cutting in effectively and gesturing pointedly towards a crate. With a good natured smile Tony hefted it up and carried it obligingly after Gibbs.

"Isn't your door ever locked?" Tony blurted impulsively as Gibbs opened it one-handed.

"Nope," Gibbs returned casually, "No point. Anyone determined enough to rob me won't be held off by a locked door."

That was certainly true but Gibbs reputation undoubtedly helped. Tony hadn't been here for long but even he could sense that most people respected Gibbs just as much as they feared him. Only an absolute idiot would be stupid enough to risk pissing him off by robbing the man –and besides, Tony couldn't imagine he'd have much worth stealing anyway.

"Here's your pay for the day," Gibbs said, putting down the crate to hand over some money. Tony flicked through it idly and blinked.

"This is twice what Joseph was paying me," he managed, and even then he was sure his voice was squeaking, "I can't accept this, Gibbs. I didn't even work the whole day."

"Joseph isn't as well off as I am," Gibbs shrugged, "And I know I ain't easy to work with. You earned every cent today."

Since the very notion of Gibbs being easy to work with was ridiculous, Tony had to concede the point. And besides, as much as he hated to admit it, he really needed the money. Having no clothes was becoming a bother and with this much pay coming in every day he could afford to support Tim as well –which was the least he could do considering the man was working to provide a roof over their heads.

"Thank you," Tony said honestly, "I'll see you the same time tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Sunday," Gibbs reminded him, "Dock's closed Sunday's."

That was news to Tony but he was hardly going to complain about a day off.

"How are you planning to spend it?" Tony dared to ask, honestly curious as to what Gibbs did in his time off.

"Work on the boat," Gibbs answered simply. Tony perked up at once.

"The boat?" he echoed, "You're building another boat? Really?"

It took all of Tony's self control not to demand to see it, though it was a very close call. Gibbs, clearly seeing this, rolled his eyes tolerantly and took a step back, wordlessly inviting Tony in. Tony all but bounced with excitement as he entered.

"She out back?" Tony guessed, figuring that was the only place Gibbs could have room to build a boat.

"Nope," Gibbs denied, not explaining further but instead leading the way. Curiously, he headed directly to the basement.

The basement was pretty big, but the boat-in-progress took up most of the room. It was only a skeleton, Gibbs not even started on the planks yet but Tony was still awed by her despite that.

"Awesome," he breathed, approaching the frame and laying a gentle hand against the wood, irrationally terrified he'd break her, "This is so cool."

He spent a good few moments just gawking at her before he took in the whole basement and realized a very obvious problem.

"How in hell are you going to get her out?"

Gibbs grinned, startling Tony more than the boat itself.

"Trade secret," he returned.

"Oh, come on," Tony pleaded, looking around shrewdly, "How? I mean, there must be a way or the Kelly would still be here..."

Gibbs only grinned more and remained silent. Tony, fully pouting now, let the matter go. Though he was sure the problem would continue to torment him.

"How many boats have you made?"

"This is the forth," Gibbs replied, "Maybe third since I didn't actually finish one."

Tony raised his eyes and cocked his head curiously.

"Burnt it before it was done," Gibbs explained wryly and Tony blinked.

"Why?" he asked bemusedly.

"Just after I divorced my third wife," Gibbs returned as though that said it all. It likely did but Tony was busy being rather taken aback by the thought that Gibbs had been married –and multiple times at that.

"Huh," Tony muttered, for lack of things to say, "Well... thanks for letting me see her. Must be amazing to build something so beautiful up from scratch."

Tony wanted to add something onto that –wanted to ask who Kelly was. But that didn't seem to be a question Gibbs was ready to answer yet and, honestly, it wasn't an answer Tony was ready to hear either.

"It's quite the experience," Gibbs admitted, following Tony back to the door.

Tony nodded, hovering by the door and feeling supremely awkward as he struggled for something to say.

"See you Monday," was the best he could manage.

Then Gibbs was closing the door and Tony was left on the porch, alone and feeling something within his chest that he couldn't analyse. And for the first time, he wondered what the fuck it was that drew him to Gibbs and what the hell it all meant.

The walk home provided absolutely no answers.

 

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_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those reviewing. I assure you that it does not go unapprciated.


	6. Interlude: Kate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kate Todd does something inadvertently stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is super late. Er... sorry? Have two chapters!!

  
**Interlude: Kate  
** _In which Kate Todd does something inadvertently stupid_   


The train station was overcrowded, noisy and bustling with an overabundance of activity, but Kate couldn't care less. After days of travelling she was just happy to be there.

From this point on, her trip would become easier. It would be leisure train rides pretty much the entire way to West, where her annoying brother better be ecstatic to see her.

It would be another hour before she could have her blessed peace and relaxation however, as the expected train was running late. Kate, blowing her bangs away from her face irritably, looked around idly.

There were screaming children crying for god-knows-what, flustered mothers attempting to consol them and shops that were absolutely brimming with activity. Including, Kate noticed, a post office.

Suddenly remembering the letter she carried, Kate checked her watch and shrugged. If she was to be stuck here for another hour, she may as well do something productive. She hesitated slightly, however, remembering Tony had asked her not to deliver the letter until she was firmly in West... but surely that didn't matter? Thinking about it, she became more certain he'd given that stipulation just to make her feel useful and to make her feel better after she'd insulted him.

Time had allowed her to distance herself from that particular embarrassment and, feeling that it didn't particularly matter where she mailed it, Kate made her way over to the post box outside the post office. She was pulling the letter from one of her various pockets when she noticed a sign on the metal cylinder:

' _ **Please ensure that both the outgoing and return**_  
 _ **addresses are complete and correct before mailing.**_  
 _ **Thank you.'**_  


Thinking that that was sound advice, Kate looked the letter over. Since she hadn't paid much attention to it before, she'd never taken much note of where it was going. Strangely enough, it was headed to the palace. Kate immediately felt better about mailing it now –it would be there in days while, from West, such a trip would have taken weeks. Especially crossing kingdom lines.

Flipping the letter over, she also noted that it didn't have a return address. Tim had written it rather hastily, she remembered, and concluded that he'd probably forgotten to add it. Surely his mother would want to send him a letter back?

Fishing out a pen from her purse, Kate set it against the letter before realizing she had no idea where Tim was staying. In the end, she simply put  _'Semper Inn, 14 Bullpen Street, Semper, Fidelis'_  and hoped that it would do. Semper was on the map after all, and if Tim's mother was to send a letter to Semper Inn, odds were that the letter would find its way to Tim eventually.

Happy to have the matter over with, Kate popped the letter into the box and checked her watch. She'd managed to drain a whole ten minutes, but that still left another fifty to go. Sighing tiredly and cursing her brother for living so gosh-darn far, Kate put the pen away and returned to her seat, eyes fixed optimistically onto the tracks before her.

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_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read? Please review. :)


	7. A Day in the Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony tries to figure things out. Enter Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters were posted today, so please go back and read the previous one first. Thank you.

 

  
_I'm sure there should be music_   
_That I could call the theme_   
_Along with rolling credits_   
_In text that sets the scene_   
_I'm sure there should be a voiceover_   
_Or at least a vague narrator_   
_Who tells us all what's going on_   
_And turns our thoughts to 'later'_   
_I still have all the drama_   
_The angst and the plot_   
_But where on earth's the script_   
_That tells us what is what?_   
_There's no certainty here_   
_No soft, dramatic songs_   
_Just you and me and this_   
_No maybes, rights or wrongs_   
_I wish I understood it_   
_But it cuts me like a knife_   
_So here it goes, once again_   
_A day in this thing called life._   


**Chapter Six: A Day in the Life**

 

Sunday dawned beautifully, a flurry of activity, light and noise. Makeshift markets, assembled quickly and easily, took root along the main street of Bullpen, gleaming white canvasses spoke of endless possibility.

Semper was well known for its monthly markets, and visitors from the neighbouring towns of Mareen and Lab flocked to them to test their luck –searching for a bargain or to trade. Even folks from Byron Bay turned up, eager to explore the sights.

And what sights there were.

Not only were the various stalls decked out to the nines in the hopes of drawing customers, but everything and anything was for sale. Wine, jewellery, clothes, books, flowers, fine works of art and (of course) the prime catches of sea food.

By the time Tony had reverted back into his human form, the market was well and truly in swing. A great many of the sailors were there selling gems they'd fished out of the waters: everything from sea shells to particularly beautiful pieces of coral.

Tony, who was rather blindsided by the mere existence of the market, found himself quickly caught up in the colours and the excitement of it all. He ran into Tim at one point and, seeing his puppy dog expression, managed to force half his pay onto him, along with a stern order to go enjoy himself.

After shaking the other man loose, Tony set about following his own advice. He managed to track down a watch with relative ease and even had some money left over to buy some suitable clothes –ones that actually fit him.

Tony was feeling immensely pleased with himself, armed with his numerous bags, but he still found his thoughts straying to Gibbs. He began to wonder what Gibbs was doing just then: if he were enjoying himself, or if he'd bothered coming to the markets at all. Surely he had to... everyone had shopping to do, anti-social tendencies or no.

Forcing the matter out of his mind, Tony tried to focus on the many stalls around him and suss out whether he could afford anything with the meagre change he had left.

And all but collided into Stan Burley.

"Woah!" the other man cried, reflexively gripping Tony's arms for balance, "Careful!"

"Sorry," Tony managed sheepishly, straightening, "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I can see that," Stan agreed amusedly, "Try not to hurt yourself."

Tony pulled a face, shifting his load. The movements attracted Stan's attention and the man raised a brow incredulously at the shear number of bags in Tony's hand.

"I came here with practically nothing," Tony said defensively, "I need clothes."

"Looks like you've enough for three people there," Stan teased lightly.

Tony made the most mature comeback he could and stuck his tongue out. Stan laughed, the sound as light and clear as crystal. Tony, suddenly struck by how handsome Stan was, wondered how he'd managed to last so long without flirting shamelessly with him –his usual response when confronted with breathtaking people.

"Do you need any help carrying them?" Stan asked considerately, reminding Tony oddly of Ari.

"I'm right, thanks," Tony returned kindly, not the least bit bothered by the weight of the bags.

"It's good you're getting to see the markets," Stan remarked, taking Tony at his word and not insisting as Ari would have done, "Have you seen much of the town?"

"Just by walking around," Tony admitted, "I seem to be too busy to sight see."

"Sailing can get like that," Stan agreed, "It can take over your life if you let it. Have you even been to Waterfront?"

"Like...  _the_  waterfront?" Tony wondered, bemused.

"Like the restaurant," Stan corrected, chuckling, "Best restaurant in town. It's right by the water."

"Never heard of it," Tony shrugged honestly.

"Oh, you  _have_  to try the place," Stan exclaimed enthusiastically, "What are you doing tomorrow night? I'll take you there. My treat."

"Sure," Tony agreed, figuring what the hell, "Sounds like fun."

"Great!" Stan, looking a little relieved at Tony's acceptance, "I'll meet you outside the hotel at eight thirty. We'll walk there together."

Stan hurried away with a quick smile and a wave, moving as though he feared Tony would take his approval back. Tony, undeniably flattered, mused to himself that even if the night was an absolute bust, at least he was guaranteed a free meal.  
 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

"Have fun at the markets?"

Tony, carefully putting his newly bought clothes away, made certain his voice was nothing but casual as he replied.

"Yep." He said, fighting to keep a straight face, "Stan Burley asked me out."

"That's nice," Tim returned absently, looking through his own bags. He continued to do so for almost another minute before what Tony had said registered, and he froze in place, his head snapping up.

"What?"

"Stan Burley," Tony repeated, unable to hold in a smile, "We're going out tomorrow night."

"He's the guy that helped you home, right?" Tim checked, frowning thoughtfully, "After you rescued Abby?"

"That's the one," Tony agreed, glancing at his new watch and assuring himself he had plenty of time to make his way to the ocean.

"Didn't realize you were interested in him," Tim mused, "Try not to stay true to your old form, yeah? We hardly need you to develop a reputation this soon."

Tony would have been offended, had Tim been telling anything but the truth. Instead, he grinned impishly.

"No promises," he bantered, teasingly, "Oh, relax. It's only a dinner. Speaking of which, when are you going to ask Abby out?"

Tim blushed bright red at once.

"We're in hiding," he pointed out, voice full of dignity, "This isn't a good time to date."

"We might be in hiding for a long time," Tony parried, "No need to put your life on hold for it. Besides, I very much doubt Abby will wait around for you."

"Shouldn't we be going?" Tim asked instead, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a charging bull.

"Yeah," Tony allowed, rolling his eyes, "Let's go."

With an audible sigh of relief, Tim hastened to the door. Not that it particularly mattered. Tony knew, even if Tim didn't, that the subject wasn't forgotten. He'd get his way eventually.

He always did in the end.  
  
 

 

*~*~*~*~*  
 

  
Tony didn't mention his date to Gibbs.

Not that the man asked.

It annoyed Tony to no end, and he was only further annoyed by the fact he didn't know why he was annoyed. Gibbs had never acted as though they were anything but sailing partners and certainly hadn't led Tony on to believe that they could be friends.

Still, it took everything Tony had to stop himself from using his date as leverage, or lauding it over Gibbs, as if to say he didn't really need the other man anyway. Not only was it completely untrue, it wouldn't be fair to Stan. And, if nothing else, Tony always did his best to be as charming as possible.

With that thought firmly in mind, Tony focused all thoughts on forcing himself to look forward to the dinner and, by the time night finally dawned, had actually been mostly successful.

He had an hour to shower and change, both of which he did with a sort of attention he'd been neglecting lately. The end result wasn't too shabby, all bruises aside, and Tony felt rather pleased.

"You look almost like your old self," Tim commented when he saw him. Tony frowned, the problem with that too obvious to ignore.

"No one will recognise me, right?"

"In Semper?" Tim asked incredulously, "No way. Besides, it's not like those clothes are of the same calibre as the ones you had at home. I doubt any prince would be caught dead in them."

"Good point," Tony conceded, "Well, have a good night."

"Be back before midnight!" Tim cautioned as Tony left.

Tony rolled his eyes expressively, unable to believe Tim thought he'd forget such a thing. Shaking his head to himself at the very idea, he made his way swiftly out the front of the hotel where Stan was already waiting.

He looked good enough to eat.

Tony eyed the man up and down, impressed despite himself. Not only did the guy clean up well, he also had pretty good taste in clothes. Feeling suddenly much more comfortable about agreeing to this whole thing, Tony approached with a smile.

"Nice," Stan said appreciatively, eyeing Tony back.

"Not too bad yourself," Tony returned, grinning, "Now, where's this restaurant I apparently  _have_  to try?"

"This way," Stan gestured, stepping neatly to the side and allowing Tony to walk in pace with him, "You'll love it, I promise."

Tony, having been treated to years of fine dining prepared by the best chefs money could buy, decided not to dispute this claim and walked silently, finding himself looking forward to it. He'd never been to many actual restaurants –it was very difficult for the royal family to blend in as they tended to get mobbed by sycophants wherever they went.

And what few restaurants he'd been to hadn't been anything like the Waterfront. They'd been posh, fancy but dreadfully dull. From the first glimpse of the Waterfront it was clear that the place was nothing like those posher places: it looked small, cosy and a little bit haphazard. Strangest of all, considering how small a town Semper actually was, it was also rather busy and it was clear that Tony and Stan weren't the only couple.

"Stan!" a woman greeted as they entered, "You haven't been here for a while. Who's your friend?"

"Hey Fiona," Stan returned kindly, "This is Tony Swan. He's new in town and has yet to taste your absolutely divine food. Can you scrounge us up a table for two?"

"Of course," Fiona agreed, winking slyly at him, "This way."

"Did she really just wink at us?" Tony asked incredulously as they walked.

Stan merely laughed, smiling at Tony with dazzling white teeth but not, Tony noted, actually answering the question. Letting the matter go, Tony followed obediently to a table right by the water. The Waterfront was built on an elevated piece of land and though the night sky was bridged with clouds, the view was absolutely amazing. Tony was transfixed by it, watching the gentle ebb and flow of the waves as he took his seat.

"Lovely, isn't it?" Stan commented, noting Tony's gaze.

"Very," Tony agreed without reservation, "I love the ocean at night. Be amazing to sail it."

"Not entirely safe at night," Stan cautioned at once, "I imagine only Gibbs could get away with it. He's the best sailor in Semper."

"Really?" Tony wondered, a little taken aback by that.

"Without doubt," Stan agreed, "Only person who could sail through a storm. I've seen him do it too, when I was his second."

"You were his second?"

"Oh yeah," Stan nodded, half grinning half grimacing, "I hold the record, too. I lasted just over a year. No one else has lasted so long."

"How many seconds has he had?" Tony couldn't help but ask, bemused.

"A fair share," Stan admitted, "They don't tend to last long. As I said, I've lasted the longest so far. His last second was Vivian Blackadder, in fact. She didn't even last a fortnight."

"How long ago was that?"

"Almost a month ago now," Stan replied, "At least."

"Huh," Tony managed, not sure how he felt about that, "How long ago were you his second?"

"I was before Vivian," Stan said, "But I quit when I developed an ulcer. I tell you, working with that man is absolute hell. I mean, he's brilliant –don't get me wrong –he's absolutely amazing. Likely the most honourable man I've ever met... but he's an unrepentant bastard. Still, working with him for over a year taught me everything I know about sailing."

"He is impressive," Tony conceded, "But I didn't realize he was the best..."

"Oh yeah," Stan asserted firmly, "That's why everyone's so surprised he took you on as a second. Not only because of your lack of experience but because, from what I hear,  _he_  actually asked  _you_."

"Isn't that how it works?" Tony wondered.

"Normally, yeah," Stan agreed, "But not with Gibbs. Everyone knows he's the best. He's constantly hounded by people wanting him to take them on and teach them what he knows. He always refuses. He has a very strict criteria."

"And I fulfil that?" Tony inquired incredulously, "How?"

"Beats me," Stan admitted honestly, "No one does. He must have seen something in you."

That wasn't particularly reassuring. Tony couldn't help but ask himself how long Gibbs would put up with him for. He wasn't exactly the easiest employee to have: he knew nothing about sailing, he was incapable of shutting up and he couldn't work between the hours of midnight and noon.

"You saved Abby's life," Stan piped up, seeing something of Tony's thoughts on his face, "Gibbs could do a lot worse."

"Hey huns," Fiona interrupted them, approaching their table with a pad of paper and a pencil firmly in hand, "You know what you want?"

"You like lobster?" Stan asked Tony, not even glancing at the menu, "It's the best. I should know, because I caught it."

"Sounds fine," Tony agreed easily, taking Stan's word.

"Two lobsters coming right up," Fiona agreed.

"That isn't too expensive?" Tony checked, very aware he didn't have any money. It was a new experience for him to not have to pay – given his background, it was usually assumed that the meal was on his tab.

"Not here," Stan dismissed, "In other parts of the kingdom, sure, but it's too accessible here to be expensive."

Tony nodded and moved the conversation on. Stan told Tony all about Semper, the places he  _'had to see'_  and, eventually, the people in Semper. They chatted about Abby and the residents living in the hotel before moving on to Joseph and his daughter Vivian, and somehow came back to Gibbs.

"He wasn't born here," Stan explained as Tony finished off his lobster which was, admittedly, delicious, "He turned up around, oh, almost thirty years ago. No idea where he comes from or what he left behind. Most all anyone knows about him is that since being here he's been married three times and divorced three times. All red heads and all women."

"All women?" Tony echoed in surprise, "Really?"

"Some people think he might not be attracted to men," Stan confided, "He's certainly never shown any interest in them and monosexuality has been known to happen."

"I've only ever heard about it," Tony admitted, "But don't you suppose that anyone sensible would at least pretend to be attracted to both sexes equally just to avoid being outcasted."

"Which isn't something Gibbs has to worry about," Stan joked, "No one in their right mind would dare make fun of him."

"I can imagine that," Tony agreed, picturing it and smiling, "Though he does make the most beautiful boats. Even if they are rather sad."

"Sad?" Stan parroted blankly, "The workmanship or the boats?"

"The boats of course," Tony elaborated, "Don't you see it?"

"They're pieces of wood," Stan pointed out, bemusedly, "How can they possibly be sad?"

"They... just are," Tony summarised eventually, sighing and checking his watch. He started, "Shit, I better be going. It's almost eleven thirty."

"Do you have a curfew?" Stan asked lightly, clearly kidding.

"Yes actually," Tony replied, grinning as he got to his feet, "I have to be back before midnight. I need to take my medication."

"You could have brought it with you," Stan pointed out.

"It tends to make people uncomfortable," Tony lied, shrugging, "And besides, it wipes me out completely. You'd have had to carry me back. Another reason I don't take it until midnight –I can sleep through the worst of the effects."

"Sound horrible," Stan grimaced.

"It is," Tony admitted quietly, "But I live with it as best I can."

"Let's go then," Stan said, eyes full of sympathy, "I'll just go pay the bill."

Tony waited him out, checking his watch anxiously the whole time. He knew Stan would insist on seeing him safely home which meant he'd have to use the pond to change –there was simply no way in hell he'd make it back down to the ocean in time.

"Come on," Tony beaconed when Stan returned, "We need to hurry."

"Why?" Stan wondered, frowning, "Would it really be so bad if you took your medication a few minutes after midnight?"

"Yes," Tony returned, so emphatically that had Stan blinking in surprise, "It would."

"Alright then," Stan agreed bemusedly, picking his pace up.

"Sorry," Tony sighed, resisting the temptation to check his watch again, "I had a good time tonight. Really. Thanks for taking me out."

Stan's eyes softened at once and he nodded.

"You're welcome."

The hotel came into sight and Tony sighed with relief at seeing it. He still had ten minutes to spare, which was plenty of time to secure the area around the pond.

"I'll be fine from here," Tony told Stan, turning to face him head on.

Stan took advantage and leaned forward to kiss him. The kiss was soft, dry and warm. Taken aback, Tony still had enough presence of mind to lean into it. He was a little disappointed though – Stan was a decent kisser but he felt no flush of arousal or excitement from the kiss. It was sweet but utterly sparkless.

Stan sighed breathily as he pulled back, the shine in his eyes told Tony he'd felt something, even if Tony hadn't. Stan being obviously enamoured with him only made Tony feel guilty and wonder what the hell was wrong with him. A month ago, he'd have slept with and discarded Stan by now and yet here he was, unable to even find the other man attractive, despite his physical appearance.

"Good night," Tony managed, somehow finding a smile.

Stan smiled back and watched as Tony made his way inside the hotel, yawning and wishing he could just crawl into bed. But he couldn't.

Instead, he made his way to the gardens.  
  
 

 

*~*~*~*~*  
  

Glimmering water,  
Skies overripe with clouds,  
wind with a hint of bite to it,  
the overall sense that he knew exactly where he was going.

There was the beating of wings,  
the rippling of a pond,  
the rustling of feathers,  
and the whisper of dreams  
that called, called, called  
his name.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chaps were so late. I clearly suck at life. Also, don't ask about the ending. No real idea what happened *there*. Clearly I was feeling too poetic for my own good.


	8. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a storm and things go from bad to worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry but I apparently suck at life. Here is a new chap to make up for my shortcomings.

  
_The ocean is angry_  
 _The sky is dark_  
 _There's no light here_  
 _No gay-filled lark_  
 _The rain is drenching_  
 _The thunder screams_  
 _The lightning flashes_  
 _Like violent dreams_  
 _The waves are towers_  
 _The sea is death_  
 _The roads are perilous_  
 _And dare not draw breath_  
 _Feet are clumsy_  
 _Hands, they grasp_  
 _Heads are lowered_  
 _Walk quickly past_  
 _Houses shudder_  
 _Trees crack and fall_  
 _Rivers flood_  
 _And fires call_  
 _All is chaos_  
 _All animals withdrawn_  
 _To wait optimistically  
_ _For a light-filled dawn._   


**Chapter Seven: The Storm**

Tony awoke to rain.

Soft, pattering, gentle rain that was light and refreshing, and kissed you softly as it fell. The clouds, a flurry of greys, shifted anxiously across the sky, warning those below that its mood was likely to darken.

Flapping his wings out, Tony made his way to the ocean for the change. The water was slightly turbulent, the rain stirring it into a frenzy, and Tony waded to the very edge to avoid getting utterly soaked.

Since he hadn't changed the night before, he was far too well dressed for sailing. Tony had had the foresight to hide some casual clothes at the dock the day before but he hadn't counted on the rain –the spare clothing was damp through and through. Deciding he'd rather be slightly wet (which was likely to happen regardless) than ruin his nice clothes, Tony changed into the wet clothes and made his way down to the wharf, where the Kelly was already docking.

"Hey boss," Tony greeted as he clamoured onboard, "Nice weather we're having, huh?"

The comment earned him a head slap but Tony was used to them by now, and wasn't the least bit phased. Instead, he turned his attention to sailing –a task made all the more difficult by the ever-increasing rain.

Tony had never worked so hard. The rain brought wind, which brought waves that tossed the Kelly around as though she were nothing more substantial than driftwood. The sky, darkening prematurely, continued to rumble ominously as furious bolts of lightning threw themselves towards the sea.

"We're being pulled west!" Gibbs shouted over the symphony of chaos, "We're gonna have to fight against the wind to get back."

That was easier said than done.

The wind fought them furiously the whole way, whipping the sails and doing anything it could to upturn the boat. If Tony had had any doubts that Gibbs was the best sailor in Semper, they were thoroughly dispelled by the experience –watching Gibbs work was absolutely amazing. He steered the boat with all the confidence and determination of salmon swimming upstream.

They made it back to port water logged, dishevelled and three hours late, but otherwise unharmed.

Joseph, who had been waiting faithfully at the docks for every boat to return, ran to greet them.

"Thank god," he cried, actually embracing Tony in his excitement, "Did you see the Enterprise? She's the only vessel outstanding."

The name was familiar and Tony struggled to place it as Gibbs answered.

"That's Stan's boat," he realized abruptly.

"He's still rather new to captaining," Joseph admitted worriedly, "And this is his first real storm..."

Gibbs turned his eyes back to the sea –a dark mass of waves, foam and fury.

"Where was he headed today?"

"The Three Sisters," Joseph replied, "He was fishing for oysters."

"The what?" Tony wondered blankly, somehow doubting Joseph meant that literally.

"A series of rocks," Gibbs replied absently, frowning, "It's shallower there. Likely his boat got marooned. Tricky place to get out of in a storm. It was foolish of him to go there."

"He'll be smashed to bits if this wind gets any worse," Joseph realized with dawning horror.

"I'll get him," Gibbs returned casually, sounding as if it's as easy as fetching him from another room.

"You can't go alone," Joseph pointed out reasonably, "And Tony's not experienced enough..."

"I'll manage," Tony insisted, "I have to help. I owe it to Stan."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Joseph broached tentatively, "From what I hear, you two are something of an item."

Only two things travelled so swiftly they couldn't be measured: lightning and gossip. Tony really shouldn't have been surprised.

"It was one date," he protested, "I'm hardly picking out china patterns. And besides, Gibbs can't go alone."

"But it's not long until midnight..."

Tony checked his watch. It was already approaching ten-thirty. Considering how bad the weather had been, the odds were definitely against him making it back by midnight. Tony hesitated, remembering vividly just what awaited him if he missed his deadline. But that fear soon solidified into determination. Stan needed his help and Tony was in a position to help him. He had to do it –no matter the cost.

"He'll be fine," Gibbs asserted firmly, already turning back to the battered Kelly, "We'll be back soon."

Joseph watched them anxiously, wringing his hands as they set sail once more. The ocean waves snapped them up at once but Gibbs' hands were firm on the wheel, steering them unerringly into the storm.

It was slow going, if only because the elements kept conspiring to knock them off-course. Matters were complicated even further by the fact that the Three Sisters were, in fact, very large rocks. Which meant that Gibbs would have to try his damndest to prevent the Kelly from being smashed to smithereens.

There was also the element of time to consider and that fact that Stan's ship could be destroyed at any moment –if, indeed, it hadn't been so already.

"There!"

Tony turned, almost stumbling with the force of it, and peered in the direction Gibbs was pointing. Barely discernable through the torrential rain were four solid blob-like shapes. Three were jagged and firm –clearly rocks –while the fourth had to be the Enterprise.

The Enterprise was being tossed around like a rubber ball, shaken so violently that it seemed liable to fall apart. Even from a distance, it was abundantly clear that it was taking everything Stan had to keep it afloat.

Tony slowed the boat right down, all but folding the sails completely as they approached the rocks with Gibbs carefully navigating their way. When they were close enough to be visible, Gibbs took out the best torch he owned and lit it. It flickered in the rain but burned true, immediately attracting Stan's attention. He cried out something to them, but the words were lost in amidst the cries of the wind.

His inattention cost him dearly as his vessel scraped past one of the rocks, making a sound ugly enough to pierce through even the wind as it rent the air. Gibbs waved the torch and, after double-checking that the buoys were tied securely, threw the bundle into the ocean.

Tony could only just make out Stan and his second, standing on the boat and... they appeared to be arguing. The girl who was evidently Stan's second seemed to have won, as Stan turned to the edge of the boat and, together, they dove into the waters below.

They swam fiercely towards the buoy as, behind them, the boat spiralled and was thrown against the rocks, tilting precariously before it succumbed to the inevitable and began to sink. It was already halfway into the water by the time Stan and his companion reached the buoys and, together, Tony and Gibbs managed to heave them on board.

Both sailors collapsed to the deck immediately and for the first time Tony got a good look at Stan's second. She wasn't anyone that he recognised but she had a face that seemed oddly familiar, suggesting that he'd seen a family member of hers before.

"Tony," Stan gasped, reaching out a hand to grasp at him. Tony caught the hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Just relax," he coaxed, encouraging Stan to lie back, "We'll be back soon."

Stan obeyed the command at once, his eyes drifting shut as he curled up on the deck. Tony took a moment to draw a deep breath, and then threw himself right back into the thick of it, wrestling with Gibbs to get the Kelly back to dry land.

The wind was in their favour this time and so they managed to make it back in half the time it had taken them to find Stan in the first place. Tony, utterly exhausted by this point, had never been so happy to see the wharf.

Surprised he'd made it this far, he couldn't help but glance at his watch as he helped Stan and his second dismount.

It was eleven fifty-five.

Now that Stan was safe and sound, Tony was feeling much more anxious about the approaching midnight. There was no way he'd make it back to the pond in time but nor was the ocean particularly safe just then.

"I'll help Stan back," Joseph volunteered, taking Stan from Tony. The man was mostly coherent by then and was pretty much supporting himself. He was none the worse for wear, really, just worn out. "You two go home. You deserve it."

Tony nodded, watching as the Joseph, Stan and the still-unidentified girl made their way up the dock. Compulsively, Tony looked at his watch again. Eleven fifty-seven.

"Bye Gibbs," Tony bid the man optimistically, "See you tomorrow."

"I'll walk you home," Gibbs asserted, evidently giving an order and not a request.

"That's not necessary," Tony insisted. Eleven fifty-eight. "I can see myself back perfectly fine."

"Your exhausted," Gibbs returned, ever the stubborn bastard, "And I know enough about anaemia to know I shouldn't let you walk back alone."

"Would you just  _go_?" Tony demanded, becoming desperate before abandoning caution all together, "Screw it."

He bolted –heading not towards the hotel but back towards the water. Gibbs, taken off guard by the unexpected action, rallied quickly. Since Tony was utterly drained of all energy (and Gibbs was surprisingly fast) he caught up with Tony easily, halting his escape by grabbing his arm.

"Let me go!" Tony cried, struggling ineffectively, "I have to get to the water."

"You're not going in there," Gibbs argued, his tone incredulous, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Please," Tony begged, losing all fight and hanging limply in Gibbs' hold. Eleven fifty-nine, "I can't go through it again. I can't."

"So you're going to throw yourself into a stormy sea?" Gibbs yelled, clearly getting the wrong end of the stick, "What'll that solve?"

"It's too late now," Tony saw, watching his watch count down the last ten seconds until midnight, "Brace yourself."

Gibbs frowned, hearing something in Tony's tone that he couldn't identify. Then midnight struck.

And everything that Tony was ceased to exist for that single crucial moment of time as his basest instincts were forgotten in favour of a single sensation: pain.

A pain that nothing, not even the memory of past encounters, could prepare anyone for.

Tony heard screaming, a sound akin to a soul crying out a lament, and it sounded remarkably like his own voice. He was also distantly aware that a pair of arms were holding him tightly but they hardly mattered –compared to the sheer agony he felt, they were immaterial. Nothing existed: not the moon, not the stars, not the rain. All that there was and all there ever would be became an agony so prevalent it eclipsed all others.

And the world went black.  
  
 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Tony rose from sleep slowly.

He fought against consciousness as, even in waking, he felt suffused with fatigue. Then he noticed that he wasn't on water –instead, he was curled up on a makeshift bed that someone had taken the time to construct.

Blinking blearily, Tony managed to lift his head. Which is when he noticed he was currently in his swan form.

And, all at once, his memory came flooding back.

Gibbs had seen him change.  
  
Very aware that the knowledge should be upsetting him more but generally too tired to really care, Tony snuggled deeper into the blankets encasing him and wondered idly what time it was. He suspected that he'd been sleeping for a while.

Dismissing the matter, Tony let his eyes fall closed and allowed himself to drift away once more.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The next time Tony woke, he found himself being carried.

He woke just in time to have a pair of arms lower him gently into the very edge of the ocean.

The water sobered him up quite thoroughly and Tony straightened, taking quick note of the fact that, besides from Gibbs standing before him, the area was deserted.

Then it was midday and the change struck.

The pain was almost a relief, if only because it was nothing like the one that had come before it. Tony sighed as he became human once more, staggering slightly as the change completed itself. Gibbs, standing ready, caught him at once.

"Thank you," Tony managed tiredly, leaning against Gibbs pliantly.

"Jesus Tony," Gibbs returned, voice strained, "What the hell  _was_  that?"

Since Tony was forbidden against speaking of it, he didn't answer.

"Tim," he whispered, "I need Tim. Where is he? Take me to him. He'll be able to help."

Gibbs remained silent but obediently began leading Tony to the Semper Inn. True to form, Tim was waiting anxiously out the front and all but threw himself at Tony when he saw him.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded as he helped Gibbs transport Tony upstairs, "Where the heck have you been?"

"I didn't make it to water in time," Tony explained wearily. Tim froze, causing Tony to nearly trip over him.

"What?" he breathed, "Oh my god. Are you alright? Of course you're not alright. We better get you to bed. And what the hell is  _he_  doing here?"

"He saw," Tony replied shortly, never so happy to see his hotel room.

"What?" Tim cried, and this time it was he that nearly tripped.

"I'd like an explanation," Gibbs put in firmly, helping Tony onto the bed. Tony made himself comfortable at once, immediately feeling better for lying down.

"How is this happening?" Tim despaired, "We'll leave, that's what we'll do. First thing tomorrow we'll pack up and go. Will that work for you? I mean, no reason to tell anyone if we're not even here, right?"

"Tim, you're babbling," Tony interrupted helpfully, fluffing his pillow up.

"No one's going anywhere," Gibbs ordered, becoming annoyed, "Now what the hell is going on here?"

"Tony's cursed," Tim answered reluctantly, sitting himself upon the other bed and running a harried hand through his hair, "From midnight to midday he's stripped of his human form."

"Hey," Tony realized, "You can talk about it."

"That's how curses work," Tim explained absently, "You can only tell people who already know. It's kind of a catch 22."

"Who laid it?" Gibbs asked, " _Why_  did they lay it?"

"You don't know that," Tim returned, shrugging apologetically, "So I can't tell you even if I want to."

"Can you break it?"

"Can't" Tony put in, yawning, "It totally blows."

Gibbs frowned, annoyed.

"The pains not too bad," Tony volunteered, seeing Gibbs' expression, "As long as I get to water in time it's manageable."

"But it hurts regardless," Gibbs sussed, not at all placated.

"More of an ' _all my bones are breaking and being reset crooked'_  kind of pain," Tony tried to reassure the man casually, "As opposed to an  _'I'm being burned alive'_  kind of pain."

Gibbs did not look at all reassured.

"Hey, how are my bruises?" Tony wondered suddenly, twisting himself to look down at his body.

"Er..." Tim hesitated, taking in Tony's heavily bruised limbs, "Striking?"

Despite himself, Tony huffed a laugh, peering back at Tim wryly.

"Thanks mate, appreciate that."

Tim grinned, happy to see Tony more cheerful.

"You don't have anaemia then," Gibbs observed dryly.

"No," Tony admitted, "But I needed  _something_  to explain all these bruises."

"You can't live like this," Gibbs protested, shaking his head in frustration, "You'll be driven insane first."

"I'm open to suggestions," Tony returned pleasantly, "But it seems to me that I don't have much of a choice."

"I don't know much about witchcraft," Gibbs admitted, "But there's  _always_  a way to break the spell."

"Sure," Tony agreed, "The git who laid it could dispel it. Somehow, I don't see it happening."

"God, this is depressing," Tim grouched, sighing, "There's nothing you can do, nothing that I can do. Nothing  _any_  of us can do but wait. Let's move on, shall we? Tony, how was your date?"

"Odd," Tony admitted easily, happy to go with the change of topic, "I mean, Stan is such a great guy. And I'm hardly very hard to get but... we kissed, and it felt like I was kissing you."

"Ew," Tim grimaced reflexively, making a face.

"Exactly," Tony agreed, "It was nice enough but... empty. Stranger still is that Stan didn't notice anything wrong."

"That is a little weird," Tim granted, ignoring a silently fuming Gibbs who was suddenly stranded in the centre of the room by their banter, "He's exactly your type."

"I know," Tony returned easily, "Maybe I feel guilty?"

"How do you figure that?" Tim wondered bemusedly.

"Well, what sort of relationship could I ever hope to have when I'm like this?" Tony pointed out, gesturing to himself, "No one in their right mind would put up with someone who leaves at odd hours with no explanation. I couldn't blame my anaemia indefinitely."

"Whoa," Tim stared at him with wide-eyes, "Since when are you looking for anything indefinite? I mean, no offence Tony but... you're kind of a slut."

"Hey!" Tony cried out indignantly but, since that was true, didn't argue the point.

"I guess I'm just sick of flings and floozies that don't mean anything," he admitted, more to himself than to Tim. He couldn't help but laugh at how that sounded, "Ironic, huh? I mean, I'm finally want a monogamous relationship and now I'm incapable of one."

"Wow Tony," Tim gaped, awed, "Monogamous is a big word for you."

Tony threw a pillow at him, but missed by a mile.

"Seriously though," Tim amended, "Gibbs knows now and he's not ostracising you... you won't, right?"

Gibbs, who was standing with his arms crossed in the centre of the room and generally glaring at the both of them, relaxed his stance slightly.

"You haven't lost your job," he granted.

"See?" Tim said happily, ignoring Gibbs' lack of enthusiasm, "Once you know Stan well enough to tell him he won't care either. Not if he cares for you at all."

"Not much of a life," Tony pointed out, "Catering for my changes at all hours."

"Anyone who loves you will put up with it," Tim shrugged, "I do."

"Mawwwww," Tony cooed, making Tim throw the pillow back. His aim was as bad as Tony's.

"You should try seeing Stan again," Tim sighed, rolling his eyes, "Maybe the kiss was a one off. Though maybe not. This is you, after all. If you ever do fall in love, it'll be loud, passionate and forever."

"Once I realize it, you mean," Tony snorted, "Knowing me, I'll need to be hit over the head with it."

"Probably," Tim laughed, easily able to picture that, "I blame your father."

"You would," Tony returned, yawning, "You never liked him."

"No one likes him," Tim retorted, eying Tony carefully, "You should get some more sleep. You've another change in twelve hours. You'll need your energy."

"Does it always do this to him?" Gibbs wondered, watching as Tony curled up and closed his eyes.

"The changes out of water are ten times worse," Tim admitted, "But yeah, it's a little like having constant fatigue. Must admit, I'd have given in by now –but not Tony. He's the strongest person I know."

Tim and Gibbs kept talking quietly but Tony didn't hear any more. He'd already drifted back into sleep.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

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	9. Right Before Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything but nothing changes and Tony is metaphorically hit over the head with the obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted more than one chapter today so if you jumped right to this one, go back and read chapter seven first.

  
_I spent my whole life searching_   
_I spent it on a quest_   
_Searching for that perfect heart_   
_The proverbial golden chest_   
_I've spent my whole life wanting_   
_And wondering just when_   
_I've spent it on my knees_   
_Pushed down again and again_   
_I've spent my whole life wondering_   
_Searching the very skies_   
_And what an idiot I have been_   
_For you were right before my eyes._   


**Chapter Eight: Right Before Your Eyes**

Tony would have thought that Gibbs knowing his secret would change everything.

But it didn't.

In fact, the only alteration in his normal routine was that he began accompanying Gibbs while in swan form, swimming easily after the Kelly as Gibbs sailed.

It gave him something to do and, since Gibbs didn't complain, Tony took his silence as tacit approval and continued to seek the Kelly out anytime he got bored of flying around or playing in the shallows of the ocean. Which was frequently.

While Tim never said so, Tony also got the impression that his pseudo brother felt better now that someone else was in on the secret –especially when it was someone Tony worked for. Not only was Gibbs more able to provide for Tony's situation than Tim was, his knowing about the curse meant it was much easier to find a secluded spot at midday and proceed directly to the Kelly.

In fact, considering the second 'b' was for bastard, Gibbs had been surprisingly supportive about the whole thing. He never said anything about the matter one way or the other but the fact that he was willing to go to such lengths to accommodate Tony said more than words could. He even went so far as to provide Tony with food after his transformations, correctly assuming that Tony wouldn't get to eat much while a swan. His silent anger over the unfairness of Tony's situation also shone through at unexpected moments, and Tony half hoped that Gibbs would meet Ari one day –he had the utmost faith that his boss would kick the dark sorcerer's ass.

All things considered, the following week was one of the most pleasant Tony had experienced in quite some time. The only thing that gave him any sort of trouble, in fact, was Stan.

It had become abundantly clear that Stan was far more interested in Tony than Tony was in Stan. The matter was further complicated by the fact that, despite how hard he tried, all Tony's feelings for Stan were utterly platonic.

Tim had shrugged and stated simply that Tony couldn't possibly control such things, but then Tim had no idea how odd such a situation was for Tony. For a man who'd slept with men and women he hadn't found the least bit attractive, finding himself completely uninterested in someone as handsome as Stan was more than a little unnerving.

Still, there was no use forcing something that wasn't there, and Tony couldn't do anything but accept that it was the way it was. How exactly to tell Stan that, he had no clue whatsoever, so he resorted to avoiding the man whenever possible –a tactic that Tony freely admitted was cowardly in the extreme and likely wouldn't last very long but was very effective while it did.

Then it was Saturday, and Tony's mind was suddenly given something else to obsess over.

"I'm working on the boat tomorrow," Gibbs said gruffly as Tony helped carry that day's crates into his house, "Could use an extra hand."

"Sure," Tony agreed eagerly, all but jumping at the implied invitation, "Sounds fun. I'll be here tomorrow at twelve."

Gibbs closed the door without reacting, which Tony took as an agreement. Grinning, Tony made his way back to the hotel, unable to stop thinking about the unexpected invite. He and Gibbs had never done anything even remotely social together, and the only time Tony had ever been inside Gibbs' house was when he was shown the boat. Though delighted to be asked, Tony couldn't help but wonder at what had prompted the question.

"Maybe he's just being nice," Tim suggested when Tony outlined the situation.

"Gibbs doesn't  _do_  nice," Tony parried at once.

"So maybe he wants to ask you a favour," Tim stipulated.

"I don't think so," Tony mused, considering that, "He's the sort of man who'd ask outright."

"No idea then," Tim admitted, shrugging, "Oh well. You'll find out tomorrow anyway."

Since that was true, Tony collapsed onto the bed and began to count down the hours until midnight.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Midday the next day couldn't come fast enough for Tony's liking.

Even though he'd spent the vast majority of the day in the pond, being cooed over by Abby and the miscellaneous hotel guests, he'd been bored silly by ten o'clock. Not to mention somewhat fatter than he'd been several hours before.

Needless to say, Tony hightailed to Gibbs' house the moment he was restored to his normal self.

Knocking firmly (and in a rather catchy beat) Tony all but bounced on his feet as he waited for Gibbs to answer the door. And waited. And waited.

And waited!

Suddenly remembering that Gibbs had a weird thing about not locking his door, Tony shrugged and entered without a summons. The kitchen and family room were both deserted and, not even bothering to look upstairs, Tony headed directly to the basement, where he found Gibbs sanding steadily away.

"Took you long enough," Gibbs criticised.

"I knocked," Tony protested at once, "You're the one who didn't answer the door."

"Never answer the door," Gibbs shrugged, "No one who knocks ever wants anything worth hearing about."

Considering how few door-to-door salesmen there were in Semper, Tony couldn't help but wonder what the story behind that comment was.

"What can I do to help?" he asked instead, deciding not to dwell on it.

"Pick up a sander," Gibbs returned, gesturing pointedly to a bench that housed another four.

"Just to warn you," Tony began as he picked up the sander experimentally and tested its weight, "I've no idea what I'm doing."

"It's not brain surgery, Tony," Gibbs rebutted, raising an eyebrow, "I'll show ya."

So saying, he manhandled Tony until Tony stood before him. Then, placing his hands carefully over Tony's own, he began moving it carefully up and down the length of wood. He did this three more times before he moved the sander onto the length of wood to the left.

"Feel the difference?" Gibbs prompted.

"Not really," Tony admitted, frowning.

Gibbs shifted the sander back and forth another four times before Tony finally found what he was supposed to be looking for.

"Oh!" he cried at last, exuberant about his find, "The one on the left has less resistance. It's smoother."

"I've already done that one," Gibbs said by way of agreement, backing off, "You wanna keep sanding until it feels the same."

"What if I mess up?" Tony wondered fearfully, not wanting to ruin the masterpiece before him.

"I'll be watching your six," Gibbs assured, "But you'll do fine."

"Watching my six," Tony echoed, surprised to hear a term he'd become familiar with from hanging around the palace guards, "You used to be a soldier?"

"Still am when this town needs one," Gibbs admitted easily, "Which isn't often. Very little crime here."

"Everyone knows everyone," Tony mused, "Be very hard to get away with it, I suspect. Besides, this is the sort of place where most would give help if it was asked for."

"Happens occasionally," Gibbs granted, "You're not going to break it."

"Huh?" Tony blurted, caught off guard by the remark.

"The beam," Gibbs elaborated, "It won't snap. Don't be afraid to be firm."

Hesitantly, Tony put more weight against his hands as he sanded. The _swish_ ,  _swish_  noise began to resemble Gibbs' more closely and so Tony relaxed and continued with more confidence.

"Better," Gibbs observed, and Tony beamed as, from Gibbs, that was high praise indeed.

They continued to work amicably for the remainder of the day and, though it didn't seem like such a strenuous job, Tony was absolutely beat by the end of it and his arms were killing him.

But Gibbs spoke more than he had all week.

Tony found himself deflating as the moment of his departure drew nigh. He knew, without having to ask, that work would cease at sunset and he hoped idly that they'd be able to spend every Sunday this way.

"We're not anywhere near finished," Tony pointed out as the world eased itself into dusk outside, "There's still heaps of work to do."

"Mmmm," Gibbs hummed, picking up Tony's hint at once, "Could use another pair of hands for a while."

"Really?" Tony double-checked, brightening, "For how long, do you think?"

"Till it's finished."

Which wouldn't be for years –if at all. That suited Tony just fine.

"Next weekend then?" Tony prompted, grinning himself silly.

"Tomorrow," Gibbs corrected, with a half smile, "After sunset."

Straight after work then. Which perhaps implied they'd even be eating dinner together.

That suited Tony just fine as well.

"Sure," Tony agreed, flashing his teeth Gibbs' way, "See you tomorrow then!"

He bounced away before Gibbs could change his mind and only realized as he approached the hotel that Gibbs had been addressing him all day by his first name –something he never did when they were sailing.

An insight that pretty much made his whole day complete.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Gibbs was a completely different person on the water.

In spite of whatever friendship that may be developing between them, whilst sailing he lived up to his second-b fully, and refused to accept anything but Tony's best.

Since Gibbs was the type of guy that wouldn't let  _'real life'_  disrupt what happened at work, and considering how deadly the water could turn without a moment's notice, Tony understood the approach. As the former crown prince to the largest Kingdom in the known world, Tony understood being in a position where work came before friendship or family. Being royalty, after all, sometimes involved making decisions that were bad for him personally but benefited his people.

Thus, Tony didn't mention Sunday even once and instead directed all his energy into following Gibbs' instructions to the letter. The day was an uneventful one, sea-wise, but was more physically draining than Tony had experienced in a while –due in no small part to the fact that Tony had spent the whole day before doing manual labour and was still sore in places he hadn't realized there were muscles.

When the Kelly finally docked at sunset, Tony was feeling worn out but more satisfied than ever and was looking forward to a couple hours of aimless sanding in Gibbs' basement. Of course, since it was him, it wasn't as easy as that.

Stan was awaiting his return at the docks.

"Damn," Tony swore lightly.

"Can't avoid him forever," Gibbs pointed out pragmatically, surprising Tony with his commentary.

"I know," Tony admitted, resigned, "But this isn't going to be fun."

"Don't be too long," Gibbs farewelled idly, happily leaving Tony to face the music alone. Unable to resist, Tony pulled a face at Gibbs' back.

"Hey Tony," Stan greeted, approaching, "Are you free? I was hoping we could grab a cup of coffee together."

"I'm expected at Gibbs'," Tony returned, glad he actually had a legitimate excuse, "I'm helping him work on his boat."

Stan looked more willing to believe he had dinner plans with friendly aliens.

"You've been avoiding me," he accused, coming right out and saying it.

"That's true," Tony admitted, "But I really am helping Gibbs work on his boat. That wasn't a lie."

"Gibbs never lets anyone touch his boat," Stan scoffed, "Why are you avoiding me? I thought we had a good time."

"We did," Tony allowed, frowning lightly, "And I really  _am_  working on the boat with Gibbs. Seriously."

"I don't understand," Stan said helplessly, "What went wrong?"

"It wasn't anything you did," Tony assured him hastily, "I just... my feelings for you are completely platonic. When we kissed, it felt like kissing a friend –there wasn't a spark there at all."

"Oh," Stan muttered softly, resigned, "I see."

"Do you mind if we walk and talk?" Tony requested, "I don't want to keep Gibbs waiting too long."

"You're  _really_  helping him with the boat?" Stan checked, as though he still didn't quite believe it.

" _Yes_ ," Tony said emphatically, rolling his eyes.

"Wow," Stan managed, shaking his head in awe, "I never got to  _touch_  the boat. He must really like you."

"You think?" Tony asked happily, beaming. Stan blinked, a little taken aback by his reaction. Then he raised a brow.

"Huh," he huffed, eyeing Tony oddly.

"What?" Tony asked bemusedly.

"Nothing," Stan replied at once, too quickly. "Only... I'm not sure that's a good idea Tony. Gibbs isn't an easy man to get along with."

"I know..." Tony agreed, still puzzled.

"He'll drive you crazy," Stan added, looking a touch alarmed, "I mean, he's a good guy but he's still a bastard. He's been divorced three times, after all. That just smacks of issues. And I don't want to see you hurt."

"I have no idea what we're talking about," Tony admitted, blinking slowly.

"Wow, you really don't," Stan marvelled, "That'll be interesting then. Well, at least I know why you don't find me sexually attractive."

"That makes one of us," Tony replied, a touch annoyed now, "Care to share?"

"Nah," Stan dismissed, grinning suddenly, "Not nearly as much fun that way."

They'd reached Gibbs' house by then and, clapping him firmly on the shoulder in parting, Stan left him there. For a man who'd essentially been dumped, he seemed surprisingly unaffected. In fact, of the two of them it was Tony who the most befuddled.

Shaking off his confusion, Tony hastened inside, prepared to go immediately to the basement. Instead, he got as far as the kitchen.

Where Gibbs had set up a simple meal for two.

Having expected they'd eat as they worked, much like they did while at sea, Tony was caught completely off gaurd.

"Your steak's getting cold," Gibbs pointed out, prompting Tony to take his seat, reaching automatically for the glass Gibbs handed him and finding it was filled with orange juice.

"You could use some vitamin C," Gibbs explained easily, as though them having dinner was commonplace.

"Right," Tony agreed blankly, working on autopilot as he cut the meat and raised it to his lips.

"This is good," he noted in surprise as he tasted it.

"It's how they're cooked," Gibbs returned, not elaborating, "How did it go with Stan?"

"Surprisingly well," Tony admitted, trying to shake himself out of his stupor and outlining the bare bones of the conversation that had just taken place. Despite the fact he left sections out entirely, Gibbs still looked as though he understood more about what happened than Tony did.

"Stan's always been quick on the uptake," he commented wryly when Tony was through and clearing his plate.

"Do you really not let anyone touch your boat?" Tony couldn't help but ask curiously, deciding to ignore that statement completely. He had a feeling Gibbs wouldn't give him a straight answer anyway.

"Stan exaggerated slightly," Gibbs allowed, smiling secretly.

"Right," Tony replied suspiciously, feeling Gibbs was intentionally leaving something out. In fact, he had a distinct impression by now that something was going completely over his head.

If only he could figure out what the hell it was.

"Finished?" Gibbs prompted, cutting off any further questions by getting to his feet and gesturing to Tony's empty plate.

"You cooked," Tony protested at once, following Gibbs' lead, "I'll do the dishes."

So saying, he took his own to the sink to wash it. It didn't occur to him until he was standing before the sink that he'd never washed a dish in his life. Figuring it couldn't be that hard, Tony turned the cold water on. At once, Gibbs reached over and turned it off, switching his hand to the hot water knob which he twisted firmly.

Experimentally, Tony slid the dish under the water and rinsed it before pulling it out again. Gibbs, actually letting out a laugh, took the plate away gently.

"You can dry," he suggested.

"Fine," Tony pouted, watching Gibbs intently. It turned out it wasn't too complicated; Tony had simply forgotten to scrub down the plate with some detergent.

"How have you never washed a dish before?" Gibbs marvelled, shaking his head as he handed Tony the first dish. Tony set to drying it at once.

"My mum was very possessive of the kitchen," Tony replied, "And my dad would have killed me if he caught me doing  _'women's work'_."

"That's an odd stereotype," Gibbs noted, frowning, "What about same sex couples?"

"My father doesn't have much respect for submissives," Tony admitted and, unfortunately, that was entirely true, "It was the same difference to him. My being one caused some problems, as you might imagine. He spent my whole childhood trying to shape me into a dominant. I can pull it off if I'm with a woman but otherwise I'm hopeless."

"Nothing wrong with being a submissive," Gibbs disputed firmly.

"I know," Tony agreed, taking the next dish Gibbs handed him, "It took me a while though. I think that's part of why it took me so long to want to be serious with someone. I always knew I'd prefer to be with a man and I knew I'd never be able to be the dom in such a relationship. But now, well... my dad's not exactly around to protest, is he? Besides, I was sick of living to please him."

"Explains why you're so useless when it comes to romance," Gibbs mused.

"I am not!" Tony protested at once, and, seeing Gibbs look, amended, "Well, alright, maybe a little. God, I hate my father."

"Not feeling too fond of him myself," Gibbs put in dryly, "Come on. Let's put these away and get to work."

Tony didn't need to be told twice. Hastily putting the dishes to the side, he hurried down to the basement, ducking around Gibbs to reach it first and instantly picking up the same sander he'd been using yesterday.

Eager to leave all thoughts of his father in the dirt where they belonged, he set to work on the nearest wooden beam. Gibbs, taking the hint, took up his own and set to work.

Nothing had changed. They worked compatibly side by side, exactly as they had the day before. Only, it wasn't exactly the same. Gibbs was inexplicably standing far closer than was strictly necessary.

It wasn't that Tony minded the other man working so close, but it was thoroughly distracting, especially since their shoulders brushed against each other every now and again.

The constant contact made Tony feel very self-aware, though his capacity to explain exactly why it was so distracting was very difficult beyond that. Which was, in itself, a constant source of annoyance.

When nine thirty arrived and Gibbs began to show signs of packing up, Tony was caught between relief and disappointment. Ignoring his convoluted emotions, Tony followed Gibbs' lead and put his sander away, trotting after Gibbs automatically as the other man made his way up the basement steps and into the hallway. He lingered there, standing too close and saying nothing, but looking at Tony expectantly... though Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"Thank you for dinner," Tony tried politely as he edged his way to the door, "And the company."

Gibbs sighed, as though asking for strength. Clearly, that hadn't been what he'd been waiting for. Shaking his head lightly (silently casting aspirations as to Tony's intelligence, Tony suspected) Gibbs reached out and caught Tony's wrist, pulling him so close they were all but flush against each other. Bemusedly, Tony allowed it, looking at Gibbs curiously.

The kiss took him completely by surprise.

And it was like a revelation.

It was as though he was a princess in a storybook and the kiss was waking him up –though it wasn't so much waking him out of a slumber as it was putting everything into perspective.

Suddenly, everything was so much clearer.

His inability to find Stan attractive, his endless quest for Gibbs attention and positive regard, the way he felt whenever Gibbs was near him, his constant distraction while in his presence.

His attraction to Gibbs was placed under such obvious light that Tony groaned at his own stupidity at not having realized it earlier. Though perhaps he could be excused, since he'd never felt anything beyond a short flight of fancy or a completely physical attraction. Whatever he felt for Gibbs, (and he wasn't so hasty as to label it  _'love'_ ) it clearly ran deeper than that.

Gibbs pulled back, took in his expression, and snorted.

"Bout time," he remarked and Tony flushed. How long had Gibbs been dropping hints, waiting for Tony to catch a clue?

And how hadn't the intimate dinner for two tipped him off?

"I did warn you," Tony said in his defence, a little irritated with himself, "Hit over the head with it."

"Meanwhile, Tim's fixation with Abby is so obvious it's actually rather pathetic," Gibbs commented, shaking his head.

Tony wanted to protest –point out that Gibbs should have said something. But both of them knew that Gibbs wasn't a man of words: he was a man of action. And the actions had been there all along, speaking louder and more eloquently than words could have possibly done. Tony had merely been deaf to them.

Rather than answering, Tony drew Gibbs into another kiss. Gibbs seemed much more relaxed than he had a moment ago and it occurred to Tony that the man might've actually been nervous. Though those nerves had probably been allayed by now, Tony set to banishing them as thoroughly as possible using just his tongue.

The first kiss had been chaste, a testing of the waters. This kiss was the complete opposite.

Lips were smooth as they glided over each other, tongues helping to slick the way before venturing forward and twirling around each other smoothly. They parted, lips clinging by the barest threads of saliva, took a ragged gasp for air and closed the gap once more.

Tony, the instigator of the kiss, quickly found himself losing control of it. Gibbs took over the kiss as though the dominance was his right, using one hand to pull Tony closer still and the other to angle his head just so. Tony, sinking into it quickly, gave as good as he got even as he allowed Gibbs his dominance.

When Gibbs broke the kiss completely Tony was breathless, dazed and so hard it ached. Rather than continue to kiss him breathless, however, Gibbs merely pulled him into a loose embrace, their lower regions touching but motionless.

"Stay till midnight."

"Alright."

Gibbs laughed, hearing Tony's eagerness in his voice.

"Not for that," he disputed, pressing a teasing kiss to Tony's collarbone.

"Oh," Tony breathed, half in acknowledgement and half in startled desire, "Why not?"

"I don't want this to be an echo of every relationship you've ever had."

Tony blinked, peering at Gibbs carefully. He hadn't considered that.

"It isn't," Tony couldn't help but point out, even as he conceded the point, "I'm not using you just for sex."

"I know," Gibbs agreed, pressing another kiss against Tony's neck, "But it's time you learned what else there is."

That caught Tony's interest, since he'd never experienced anything in a relationship that went beyond wooing and sex. Seeing his curiosity, Gibbs gave a lopsided smile and tugged him to the family room. Pushing Tony gently onto the couch he made his way to a radio that had to be over a decade old. Turning it on, he fiddled with it slightly before finding a something he liked and joining Tony on the couch.

The music playing was entirely instrumental: something slow, soft and gentle. It wasn't loud enough to be particularly distracting and as Gibbs pulled Tony against him and drew him into another kiss, Tony forgot about it completely.

He was rather puzzled, however. Moments before Gibbs had been preaching that they wouldn't be rushing this and yet here they were, making out.

The kissing was long, languid and slow. The first time Tony let his hands wander down, Gibbs gently directed them back up. When next he tried to increase the fever of their kissing, Gibbs soothed him at once. Eventually, Tony got the message: sex wasn't the goal here. The only goal was the kissing itself and the intimacy of being pressed together on a couch barely large enough to fit them.

Tony had always thought of kissing as a prelude to something and not an act that was wonderful for its own sake. Exchanging long kisses with Gibbs (the variety that made him feel warm to his very toes and sigh periodically) changed his mind rather thoroughly. By the time midnight had come too close to ignore, it had solidly become Tony's new favourite thing.

When Gibbs pulled away and began to lead Tony out of the house and down to the ocean for the change, Tony was so dazed that he followed the other man without question. Gibbs, who evidently was feeling rather pleased with himself, nonetheless kept a steady hand wrapped around Tony's middle as they walked.

"I don't know what this means," Tony whispered at last as he toed off his shoes and dipped his feet into the ocean.

"For now," Gibbs answered, tilting his head for another kiss, "It's a beginning. Let that be enough."

Tony smiled, wanting to have this, wanting this moment to last forever. He had the whole night to think the day over, a whole night to question and doubt and evaluate. For now, he could allow himself to enjoy the feel of Gibbs' hands on his neck, his waist. Allow himself to revel in a head muddled by kisses and a body still tingling from being held tight.

Then midnight came and it all slipped away.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Panic and doubt came in waves.

_What if Gibbs changed his mind? What if he got sick of pandering to Tony's disability? What if Tony screwed up? What about the letter? What would happen when his father arrested Ari? What happened if Tony was able to return home? How would Gibbs react to Tony's true identity? And what if Ari was never arrested? What if Tony was in hiding forever? Was he supposed to keep this secret forever? Could he really spend his whole life living such a lie?_

Needless to say, he got very little sleep and even fewer answers.

Every time a doubt or question arouse, however, Tony would remember how tenderly Gibbs had kissed him. Whatever problems he had seemed unimportant when placed next to that.

Though the mentality of  _'I'll cross that bridge when I come to it'_ didn't seem like much of a solution, realistically there wasn't much that Tony could do. Gibbs had spoken the truth when he'd called this a beginning –things were too fresh to begin analysing them so thoroughly. Whatever would come would come and, in the meantime, Tony just had to remember to take his time and try to enjoy the ride.

And there was nothing wrong with hoping for the best, even as he prepared for the worst.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

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	10. Interlude: Ari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ari finally makes an appearance and things go bad. Cue ominous music.

  
**I** **nt** **e** **rlu** **de: A** **r** **i**   


"Report."

The woman remained blank-faced, utterly emotionless, even as her nails dug into her palms and her heart raced.

"Monitoring the mail has paid off," she informed him, her voice as empty as her eyes, "We found something."

"About time," Ari breathed, sighing with barely restrained frustration.

The prince had been more elusive than he'd originally imagined possible. Tracks were non-existent; there wasn't the slightest trace of a rumour and all his tracking spells were useless at pinpointing someone they perceived to be not-quite human.

"It was directed to Timothy McGee's mother," the woman explained perfunctorily, "We destroyed it at once."

"Any return address?"

"The stamp was marked The Point, on the border of Fidelis, but the return address on the back said Semper."

"Tell me about them."

The woman paused, as though trying to gauge what information Ari required.

"The Point is a busy hub, home to the busiest international train station in Fidelis. A perfect place to blend in, for most people move around without care. A month's or so journey from the palace for those travelling on foot. Two weeks by horseback if we use sorcery. "

"And Semper?" Ari prompted.

"A small fishing village off the west coast of Fidelis A two week trek by foot, one by horseback and sorcery."

Ari smiled.

"They'll be by water," he declared at once, "This will take some careful planning. Gather the men and the horses. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

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_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read? Review <3


	11. Secrets and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gibbs is a bastard (and stubborn to boot), Tony angsts over what to do and Tim moons over Abby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two chapters today so if you clicked right to this one, go back and read the Interlude staring Ari.

 

 

  
_Don't_  
 _Ask me questions_  
 _That I can't_  
 _Answer_  
 _Without a lie._  
 _I really can't bare_  
 _The betrayal_  
 _In your eyes._  
 _How do you know me_  
 _Better_  
 _Than I know_  
 _Myself?_

  
**Chapter Nine** :  **Secrets and Lies**

The wind was brisk, the ocean was freezing and Gibbs was still a bastard.

Most people likely would have been more than a little ticked off if the man they'd been swapping spit with had acted as though nothing had happened the next day, but then Tony wasn't most people.

He actually found it comforting that something between them remained the same, remained stable. Though, having said that, it wasn't entirely true that nothing whatsoever had changed. While Gibbs remained as ornery as ever, he seemed to delight in touching Tony as much as was humanly possible –even if said touch was a simple smack to the head.

It was very distracting.

Even more puzzling, however, was that the minute they climbed off the boat, Gibbs tugged Tony close and wrapped a firm arm around his waist. Tony, having assumed t t hat Gibbs would be one averse to public displays of affection, was pleasantly surprised by the gesture and leant into it easily.

"Tony," Joseph greeted, taking in Gibbs hold on him in bemusement, "Something you'd like to tell me?"

"Hey Joseph," Tony returned, smiling whimsically, "Guess what?"

Joseph snorted and rolled his eyes before turning them onto Gibbs.

"I like you Gibbs," he began, apparently at random, "You're a good man. But you hurt Tony and I'll tear you apart with a rusty blade. Clear?"

"Clear," Gibbs agreed, smiling very slightly at the threat.

"I can take care of myself," Tony felt obliged to point out.

Both men turned to him, clearly finding that statement questionable. Tony huffed slightly, crossing his arms and pouting very slightly. It was Gibbs' turn to roll his eyes this time, nodding to Joseph as he gave Tony a tug and prompted him back into a leisurely walk, casually ignoring the stares of the few sailors still littering the dock.

"This'll be all over town by morning," Tony observed, knowing by now how the gossip in Semper worked.

"That a problem?" Gibbs asked point blank, raising a brow.

"Not at all," Tony assured, "I'm just surprised. I had you pegged as someone who would want to keep this a secret. You know –you're business is no one else's business."

"Nope," Gibbs denied casually, "I want everyone to know you're mine."

Tony flushed very slightly, finding himself quite pleased by that. Gibbs was pretty much letting everyone know that Tony belonged to him and since no one wanted to fuck with Gibbs, Tony would probably find a lot less people hitting on him.

At some point, that would have bothered Tony. Not only because he liked to flirt but also because the idea of someone claiming him so fiercely was rather disconcerting. Somehow, with Gibbs, it wasn't anything like that.

"Tony!"

"Oh damn."

Tim, a whirlwind of energy and worry, practically threw himself in their path as they made to walk past the hotel. No doubt he'd been lying in wait for them, the sneaky bastard.

"Where have you been?" he demanded in a flurry, "Did you miss another midnight? Are you alright? What happened? Is –why is Gibbs holding your waist?"

"You done?" Tony interrupted, "Or would you like another minute to panic unnecessarily? You really must stop this, Timmy –it's becoming a habit."

Tim glared.

"I've been with Gibbs," Tony sighed, leaning into the man pointedly.

Really, that was the only answer that mattered. For a long moment Tim stared uncomprehendingly. Then there was the light bulb moment where realization washed over his face.

"Ohhh," he managed, blinking, "Really?"

"Really." Tony confirmed

"But he's not at all your usual type," Tim protested.

"Considering my usual type," Tony parried, "That's probably a good thing."

"Without a doubt," Tim agreed wholeheartedly, "I'm just a little caught off guard. Well, at least he knows about your 'condition'... you're willing to put up with that? You know it's something he'll have for life."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"What?"

" _What_?"

"Gibbs," Tony began, hesitantly, "I appreciate the thought but really... there's nothing to be done. Nothing I could live with doing in any case."

"You can't live like this forever either," Gibbs disputed, so calmly that it may as well been a documented fact.

"You don't think I'm strong enough?" Tony demanded, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

"Strength doesn't factor into it," Gibbs returned, not wavering, "Everyone has a breaking point, Tony. No one can fight forever. If you don't break the curse it  _will_  break you."

"But... it can't be broken," Tony protested weakly, seeing the reason in the argument despite how fiercely he wanted to ignore it.

"I don't believe that," Gibbs disputed simply, "Eventually, whatever is going to happen will happen and when it does, I'll do whatever it takes to free you."

"What's going to happen?" Tim wondered.

"Any number of things," Gibbs shrugged, "Most likely, whatever you're running from will catch up with you."

"What makes you think we're running from anything?" Tony shot back defensively.

Gibbs snorted and gave him a light head slap in rebuke.

"Right," Tony agreed sheepishly, well aware how stupid a question that really was, "Sorry."

"But maybe it'll never catch up to us," Tim tried, somewhat optimistically, "You could be waiting forever."

"He won't be," Tony had to concede, "You read fantasy books, Tim. You know as well as I do that the world plunges into chaos at the end. Things always get worse before they get better."

"That's cheerful."

"That's life," Tony shrugged pragmatically, "It sucks. What're you gonna do."

"Try not to worry about it," Gibbs advised dryly, "It'll come when it comes."

"Fair enough," Tim muttered, clearly meaning the opposite, "Can I expect you home at all, Tony?"

The question startled Tony slightly, if only because Tim had referred to the hotel as  _'home'_.

"I'll make sure he gets to the ocean by midnight," Gibbs promised by way of an answer.

"I'm helping Gibbs build a boat," Tony couldn't help but inform Tim, grinning at Tim's incredulous expression.

"Try to keep me somewhat in the loop," Tim said instead of voicing his disbelief, "It'd be nice if I didn't have to constantly ambush you just to see how you're doing."

"Will do," Tony agreed, somewhat sheepishly, allowing Gibbs to tug him away.

"Protective brother you have there," Gibbs commented idly.

"He can be," Tony admitted, "But I'm not always the damsel in distress, Gibbs. I do rescue  _him_  occasionally."

"I don't doubt it," Gibbs returned wryly, smiling, "But how much of that trouble did he only get into from running headlong after you?"

Wisely, Tony chose not to comment.

 

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

"How on earth did you manage to turn his hair pink?"

Tony laughed, Gibbs arm warm around his shoulder and feeling more honestly happy than he had in a long time.

"It was right about the time Tim was studying sorcery," Tony explained, "I hated it when he knew something I didn't so I learnt a few simple spells."

"All of which you used on him," Gibbs guessed wryly.

"Pretty much," Tony agreed, completely incorrigible.

Gibbs huffed a laugh and Tony grinned along with him. He and Gibbs had been officially dating for four days now but sometimes it felt more like four years. Tony had never realized how thoroughly he could fall in love. Sometimes it worried him, especially when he remembered exactly what was coming after him.

"Hey," Gibbs chided gently, taping the very top of his head, "No dark thoughts."

"Sorry," Tony sighed.

"Don't apologise," Gibbs returned, "Sign of weakness. Besides, I said we'd deal with it when it became an issue and I meant that."

"Gibbs," Tony protested, slowly, "This guy –the one that's after me –he _turned me into a_   _swan_. That's crazy powerful sorcery. I don't know what you can combat that with."

"I'll think of something," Gibbs promised darkly, "What I don't understand are his motives. Did you sleep with his daughter?"

"Hey," Tony bitched sulkily, "I barely knew the guy. In fact, the whole swan thing wasn't even about me. "

"What was it about then?" Gibbs wondered, frowning.

"He wanted something from me that I couldn't give him," Tony shrugged, "He didn't take the rejection well. If I hadn't escaped, he'd have kept me locked in a room until the pain of the spell had changed my mind. Or driven me insane. Whichever came first."

Gibbs didn't look pleased by that answer.

"I can't tell you more," Tony sighed, correctly interpreting Gibbs' expression, "It's part of the curse. Besides, it's not like you don't have secrets."

"Oh yeah?" Gibbs drawled, dangerously.

"Yeah," Tony returned, bravely, "Like Kelly. Who was she? When did she die?"

"Why do you assume she's dead?" Gibbs demanded, "Maybe she left me."

"If that had been the case, then she wouldn't be so sad," Tony pointed out reasonably, "And there's love in that boat. It's what built her: love and sorrow. You don't have that sort of emotion for someone who left voluntarily."

"How on earth do you see that in a boat?" Gibbs marvelled, looking a little taken aback, "No one else ever has."

"No one else was looking," Tony parried easily, "So?"

Gibbs looked away briefly, raising a hand to run it through Tony's hair. Tony, who was beginning to regret asking, immediately felt better.

"She was my daughter."

Tony froze. He reached up to grab Gibbs' hand and caught it in his own, stilling its repetitive motion.

"Gibbs," Tony began but stopped. He didn't know what to say to that.

Gibbs didn't say anything inane like  _'it's okay'_. What he did do was place a soft kiss against Tony's hair. Tony snuggled deeper into Gibbs at once, placing a hand over the man's heart and letting himself to be soothed by the repetitive beat.

"How did it happen?" Tony managed eventually, the question forced out of him against his will.

"Shannon witnessed a murder," Gibbs answered, his eyes dark, "The sleaze hired a sorcerer to kill her, and Kelly got caught in the crossfire. I was away playing solider."

"You fought in Desert Storm," Tony realized, doing the math in his head, "I'd hardly call that playing."

"I wasn't here," Gibbs insisted stubbornly, "I couldn't protect them."

From the look in his eyes, Tony knew that the sorcerer was dead. Tony bit back any questions on the subject and focused instead Gibbs' guilt.

"You can't be everywhere at once Gibbs," Tony said reasonably, "But, if you need to hear it, then here it is: I don't think any less of you. There's no one I'd trust more with my life. I love you."

It was the first time either of them had actually said the words aloud. Tony worried it was too soon for such declarations but the look in Gibbs' eyes set him immediately at ease.

"I won't fail you," Gibbs promised, his eyes piercing Tony's own, "I can't go through that again. I won't survive it a second time."

Since Tony was being hunted by a madman, that didn't exactly set Tony at ease.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"I don't get it. Are you complaining?"

Tony shot Tim a look.

"No," he said mulishly, "It's just... well, I love him. And I know he loves me."

"And this is a problem?" Tim wondered.

"Not for anyone else," Tony returned, "But for me? Crown prince, remember? Assuming I ever get my throne back, I'll have to give him up."

"Why?" Tim blurted, startled.

"Can you imagine Gibbs in the palace?" Tony asked wryly, "Or my father approving?"

"Fuck your father," Tim returned bluntly, "He's been controlling your life for too long. You deserve to be happy."

"And what if Gibbs freaks out?" Tony continued, ignoring Tim completely, "I mean, I can't imagine choosing this gig voluntarily. And I have been, for all intents and purposes, lying about who I am. I wouldn't be surprised if he leaves me."

"Never happen," Tim retorted firmly, "You just said that he admitted he couldn't survive losing you. A man who says that isn't going to leave you because of something like this."

"He might consider my deceit as  _'losing me'_ ," Tony pointed out.

"You physically can't tell him," Tim argued, "You being the prince is part of the reason you're cursed. Therefore you can't divulge that information to someone who doesn't know. So even if you wanted to tell him, you couldn't."

"Shouldn't I at least  _want_  to tell him?" Tony tried plaintively.

"It would be safer if you didn't," Tim observed, "But since it isn't an issue, I wouldn't worry about it."

Tony couldn't help but scoff at that. Tim shot him a weird look and, shaking his head, Tony explained.

"I just find it funny that you're giving me advice you can't follow," Tony commented wryly and, when Tim frowned, elaborated, "Abby, Tim? You asked her out yet?"

"That's different," Tim protested at once.

"How?" Tony taunted, "At least I'm being honest about the whole situation. You, on the other hand, are so deep in denial that you're drowning."

"Oh yeah?" Tim challenged, "What did you tell Gibbs about tonight?"

"I told him I wanted to spend the night with you," Tony shrugged, "He understood and, besides, it was true. Having my days cut in half makes it very hard to juggle and Gibbs understands that."

That took the wind out of Tim's sails. He slouched moodily, and all but pouted at Tony. Tony rolled his eyes.

"I tell you what," Tony put in, "I'll follow your advice if you do. Ask Abby out."

"And if she says no?" Tim challenged.

"Then at least you'll know for sure," Tony shrugged.

"That won't provide much of a consolation," Tim grumbled.

"Likely not," Tony agreed, managing a smile, "But it's not like you don't have other problems to distract yourself with."

"There is that," Tim sighed, slumping, "Fine. I'll try, okay? But you have to give yourself a break with Gibbs. Cut yourself some slack, yeah?"

"I'll try," Tony echoed solemnly, placing a hand over his heart.

Tim responded by throwing a pillow at him. Tony, naturally, was forced to retaliate.

Thus began the most epic pillow fight ever fought.

 

 

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_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read, please review.


	12. A Conversation Without Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony and Gibbs talk with their lips and then with their bodies. The explicit rating becomes relevant here so be forewarned.

  
_My heart is still, yet beating_   
_My breath is fast and slow_   
_I'm smothered in your touches_   
_But I dread your letting go_   
_My skin is cool but heated_   
_My pulse is quick but still_   
_This moment is immortal_   
_But too easy for us to kill_   
_My eyes are raised, yet lowered_   
_My lips are motionless_   
_No language can escape me_   
_But you understand me nonetheless_   


**Chapter Ten: A Conversation Without Words**

It was Sunday and, for a change, Tony had the whole day free.

Tim, the poor sap, was going to spend every second of it trying to talk himself into asking Abby out. Tony, not eager to be subject to that sort of obsessive behaviour, wisely chose to spend the day with Gibbs. And Gibbs, of course, was spending it working on the boat.

"What are you going to name her?" Tony asked curiously as he sat on the steps and watched Gibbs work. He'd reached his threshold for sanding fifteen minutes earlier.

"Got a while to think about it," Gibbs returned evenly.

Since the boat was a mere skeleton, he kinda had a point.

"It's pretty cool you're making her from scratch," Tony allowed, "I've never made anything in my life except a mess."

Gibbs actually smiled at that and Tony grinned proudly.

"If you actually help I'll let you take partial credit," Gibbs suggested, shooting Tony an amused look.

"I am helping," Tony retorted, "I'm just taking a break. My hands are far more delicate than yours –I'm not used to hard labour."

"I couldn't tell," Gibbs drawled.

"Not my fault," Tony shot back, a little defensive, "My father absolutely forbid it. He said it wasn't seemly. Not that it stopped me half the time."

"What did you do with your time?" Gibbs asked, looking a touch bewildered.

"Caused trouble mostly," Tony returned wryly, "When I wasn't doing that I was studying or managing what little my father allowed me to manage."

"Must have been an adjustment coming here," Gibbs observed.

"Oh yeah," Tony agreed with a laugh, "But after over a week on foot, I was just happy to have a roof over my head and a road beneath my feet."

"Thought you'd been travelling a year?" Gibbs asked mildly, "That's what Abby said."

Tony pursed his lips together uncomfortably, unable to lie to Gibbs intentionally. Gibbs tilted his head at the silence, removing his hand from the boat and turning to face Tony fully.

"Cover story?" he asked evenly and, when Tony reluctantly nodded, continued, "Is Tony even your real name?"

"It is," Tony assured hastily.

"But Swan isn't," Gibbs stated confidently.

"No," Tony admitted, because if you knew about the curse that was too obvious to even try to deny.

"And Tim?" Gibbs continued relentlessly, "Not your brother?"

"Not by blood," Tony consented, "But he may as well be. He's certainly as loyal as one."

"So you come here under an alias with a man masquerading as your brother and a dangerous sorcerer on your tail," Gibbs surmised, tilting his head slightly as he spoke.

"Pretty much," Tony agreed weakly, "It's probably moot point telling you that you're in deep, huh?"

"I had figured that much out," Gibbs smirked, giving a brief nod.

"If you want out, I'd understand," Tony had to say, though his heart faltered at the very idea.

Gibbs frowned at that and finally spurred into action, walking forward to cup Tony's cheek. Tony pressed himself into that hand, desperate for the reassurance.

"Hey," Gibbs said lowly, intently, "You can't lie about the kind of man you are. Impossible to fake that, Tony. All that other crap is irrelevant and, besides, I'll find out eventually."

"Then..." Tony paused, trying to find the words, "You don't care?"

"I care that you're in enough trouble to make all this deceit necessary," Gibbs paraphrased, "I don't care what you last name is."

"Surely you're curious," Tony protested, "Wondering why I even have a sorcerer after me. About my life before I came here."

"I know you're from old money," Gibbs put in, running his free hand through Tony's hair and resting it on the back of his neck, "That much is obvious. I know you're not from Long Island and that people are likely searching for you. I won't lie, I worry about what you've managed to get yourself into. But I also know the curse binds you from telling me anything more. It can wait."

Tony had to look away, even though Gibbs' hands on his face made that difficult. He had to gather his composure.

"I don't deserve you," Tony managed at last, "What did I do to earn such faith?"

"You were yourself," Gibbs returned firmly, turning Tony's head back gently, "I knew the sort of person you were the moment I saw you, Tony. It was like something inside me sang."

"You didn't show it," Tony had to joke, managing a smile, "You didn't even pay me any attention half the time."

"I'm stubborn," Gibbs replied, his lips turning up in a half grin, "I was good at resisting it until Stan started sniffing after you. Thinking of you together drove me crazy."

"I couldn't tell at all," Tony laughed, grinning widely now, "You hid it well."

"You weren't supposed to tell," Gibbs shrugged, "I never wanted you to know. I thought I'd forsaken love years ago and I had no intention of losing that cynicism but, the longer I knew you, the more you dragged me in. There's no hope for me now."

"So I'm like a cancer?" Tony surmised lightly, before turning serious "And Gibbs your... well, you're one of the only people that have loved me for who I actually am as opposed to what I represent. The only other person who does that is Tim and that's because we've known each other since we were children."

"That's alright," Gibbs assured him, "I'm a possessive bastard."

He lowered his head to steal a kiss then and, closing his eyes, Tony leant into it. He was long past the stage of trying the turn their kissing into anything more and so he merely gave himself up to it, surrendered to Gibbs' will and whatever the man wanted to do to him. For the first time, he submitted completely without reservation.

When Gibbs pulled back his eyes were dark with heat. Clearly, he'd felt that change and approved of it wholeheartedly.

"Gibbs..." Tony breathed, his heart racing. He was startled to find himself nervous, though he couldn't have said exactly why.

"Jethro," Gibbs corrected, his lips brushing Tony's lightly as he spoke, "My name is Jethro."

Tony swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Jethro," Tony repeated reverently.

He didn't say anything else but, inexplicitly, they found that words weren't required between them. Gibbs offered a hand that Tony accepted before fully realizing it was there. Then Gibbs was leading them slowly out of the basement and upstairs, into a room that Tony had never entered before but knew at once as Gibbs' bedroom.

"I'm going to claim you now," Gibbs whispered as he drew Tony close to his body, half a warning and half a statement of fact.

"My heart and body are yours," Tony allowed, baring his neck to Gibbs' questing lips. The words were ceremonial and usually voiced only at marriage but, to Tony, they had never seemed more fitting.

It was clearly the right thing to say because Gibbs audibly caught his breath before pulling Tony into another kiss. A distant part of Tony fought it, struggling to rise against the fog that Gibbs seemed to be breathing into his very lungs. The longer their kisses become, however, the weaker that struggle became and the more thoroughly Tony submitted under Gibbs' hands.

It was only when that struggle ceased entirely that Gibbs began to undress him article by careful article, striping him bare of more than just his clothing in the process. Of their own accord, Tony's hands rose to shed Gibbs of his own clothing but, gently, Gibbs captured them. Pressing a kiss against the knuckles, he walked Tony carefully backwards and onto the bed, stepping away to shed his own garments, slowly revealing his body until all he wore was the necklace around his neck.

Tony watched the process with avid eyes. He'd had sex before –of course he had –but this felt different. It felt like his first time all over again. Tony remembered that. Remembered how important it had felt, even though he'd told himself it was just sex.

The intensity of that moment seemed overshadowed by this one. Tony was used to being in control, even when his lover had thought themselves the dominate partner. His station and his prestige made everyone treat him a certain way, alternatively go too easy or too hard. None of them had every earned his submission and very few had really bothered to try.

Gibbs took it as though it belonged to him already, which it probably did. When he disrobed completely and climbed onto the bed, Tony didn't even try to reach out to him, instead accepting that Gibbs would come to him.

Which he did.

Softly at first, mere strokes against his flesh with the tips of his fingers. Gibbs traced every inch of Tony, carefully cataloguing every exhaled breath, ever sigh, every moan.

"Your mine now," Gibbs murmured against his collarbone, his lips chasing his fingers, "And no one will ever touch you again."

"Jethro," Tony began helplessly, only to discover it was the only word that meant anything, the only word he felt capable of saying, "Jethro."

"Shhh," Gibbs hushed, apparently understanding him well enough. Which was fortunate because even Tony wasn't entirely sure what he was asking for, what he wanted. "It's alright. I'll take care of you."

Tony gave himself up to that, unable to do anything else. It was the most delectable torture Tony had ever undergone and he squirmed slightly under it, letting loose a distressed sound despite himself. Gibbs raised himself up at once, drawing Tony into a kiss. Tony sunk into it, clinging to Gibbs for reassurance.

He felt calmer when Gibbs pulled away but still very reluctant to let Gibbs go. Gibbs was muttering almost non-stop now, a flurry of gentle praise and soft encouragements that Tony couldn't understand half of.

"I love you," Tony heard distinctly as Gibbs lowered a hand to his entrance and slid the first finger in, "You're breathtaking."

Tony had never fallen so deeply into his own submission but he trusted Gibbs with everything he was so he spread his legs to those fingers, clutched Gibbs' free hand in his own, and trusted that such a touch would prevent him from floating away entirely.

One finger became two became three, the preparation so slow and gentle that the sensations barely registered among all the others Gibbs was coaxing forth. What did register was Gibbs removing them completely.

"Tony..." Gibbs sighed and Tony knew it for the question it was.

"Yes," he said, giving the only answer that mattered, "Yes."

Gibbs took him at his word, the blunt edge of his penis pressing against him and then sliding, in, in, in. Tony breathed through it, his eyes locked on Gibbs', those blue orbs staring steadily back at him through it all. Finally, Gibbs came to a halt, pressed into Tony to the hilt. Tony had enough presence of mind to wrap his legs around Gibbs' waist to keep him there.

"Not going anywhere," Gibbs groaned in reply, "You're perfect Tony. Utterly perfect."

"And yours," Tony added softly.

"And mine," Gibbs agreed lowly, in a voice as dark as midnight.

Then he began to move.

Tony groaned at once. Not only did the gentle push and pull light him up from the inside, but Gibbs also made sure to brush his prostate with every stroke. Tony had had sex more times than he could count but this... this was the first time he'd ever made love.

He hadn't known it could make such a difference.

It wasn't even the pleasure that was the best part, or how deeply Tony felt his submission. Rather, it was the eyes. Those brilliantly blue eyes. Even with Tony wiggling and panting and moaning beneath them, they never left his own. And the softness, the love in them, never wavered.

"Jethro," Tony begged, "Please."

"Hush," Gibbs breathed, pressing a kiss against his lips, "Just relax. Let me take care of you."

Had he had any presence of mind left, Tony would have fought back the tears. Would have at least turned his face away. Instead, they ran rouge down his cheeks. Gibbs brushed them away with the pad of his thumb, delicately licking the salt that remained behind. Tony shuddered at the care he was being shown, part of him wanting to close his eyes and give himself some recovery time. Gibbs' eyes, however, ever faithful, refused to let him do so.

Tony didn't know how long he stayed there, poised somewhere on the very edge of release and yet somehow not close enough. Gibbs drew the moment out so that it seemed to be a single second stretched into infinity.

In that twilight of serenity, nothing else mattered. The world was irrelevant, pale against the brilliance of Gibbs' eyes.

"Come," Gibbs commanded then, his hand drifting down to stroke Tony's cock, "Come."

Tony could only obey, shuddering apart in Gibbs' arms as the man continued to brush past prostate. The stimulation prolonged the orgasm so that when it finally died down, Tony lay submissive and utterly spent beneath Gibbs.

His own climax reached, Tony focused now on Gibbs' pleasure. With a slightly shaking hand, he reached up and dragged Gibbs down into a gentle kiss.

"I love you," he said as he withdrew and he'd never meant in more than he did in that moment.

Gibbs buried his head into Tony's shoulder and stuttered to a halt, his cock throbbing inside Tony as he came. Tony held him throughout, running a soothing hand down his back and refusing to drop his legs from around Gibbs' waist, waiting instead until Gibbs' cock softened and expelled itself naturally from his body.

The moment it was free, Gibbs rolled to the side, pulling Tony into his arms. Tony made himself comfortable there, his head resting over Gibbs' heart as he let the rhythmic beating lull him into a dreamless sleep.

  
*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Tony awoke to a hand periodically stroking through his hair.

He stirred slowly, yawning widely even as he stretched and blinked his eyes open. Gibbs lay casually beside him, his eyes soft as they wandered shamelessly over Tony's form. The quiet sense of awe there had Tony lowering his eyes, unaccountably embarrassed considering how intimate they'd just been with each other.

"Hey," Tony greeted for lack of anything else to say.

"Hey yourself," Gibbs returned, ducking his head to nuzzle slightly against Tony's neck, "Sleep well?"

"Very," Tony sighed happily, "I actually feel rested for once. What time is it?"

"Not far off eleven," Gibbs answered, double-checking the clock sitting on his bedside table.

Tony grimaced. As comfortable as he was, he found himself very reluctant to leave the bed to make the trek down to the ocean water.

"Stay the night with me," Gibbs demanded, slinging an arm back around Tony's waist.

Tony blinked at shot Gibbs a puzzled look.

"Ah..." he hesitated, uncertainly, "The curse?"

"I haven't forgotten," Gibbs chided lightly, "But I want you to come back and spend the night with me."

"As a swan," Tony inserted just to be clear.

"As a swan," Gibbs agreed, "Just try not to get feathers everywhere."

Tony was surprised into a laugh that was more from the fact that Gibbs had actually  _made a joke_  than to it being particularly funny. A part of him wondered if this was a Gibbs no one had seen since Shannon but the rest of him didn't really care what the answer was, only that he was seeing it now.

"Alright," Tony consented, climbing grudgingly out of the bed, "Are you coming down with me though?"

"Sure," Gibbs assured, grinning, "Just admiring the view first."

Tony dressed very slowly after that, just to tease the man further.

"I know what you're doing," Gibbs informed him amusedly, finally climbing out of the bed. Tony paused, finding a new appreciation for admiring the view. Gibbs bent to gather his clothes and, looking up, caught Tony's regard of him.

"Don't start anything you can't finish," he warned, pointing a finger in Tony's direction pre-emptively.

Tony held up both hands and plastered the most innocent expression he could on his face. Shaking his head at it, Gibbs resumed dressing and, reluctantly, Tony followed his lead, only forgoing his shoes.

"This sucks," Tony complained darkly even as he reached for Gibbs' hand and began pulling him from the bedroom and down the stairs.

Gibbs didn't say anything meaningless or obvious back. Instead, perhaps realizing there was nothing he could say to that, he settled for giving Tony's hand a firm squeeze. Luckily, Tony was well fucked and thus, easily placated.

"I wonder if Tim finally asked out Abby," Tony asked rhetorically as they neared the water, "I hope he didn't chicken out."

Again, Gibbs didn't answer. Tony didn't mind –he was in that frame of mind where mindless babble was being used as a distraction and Gibbs actually replying would have slowed him down. As it was, he chatted rapidly about... well, God knew what. To be honest, Tony couldn't have recounted what the hell he'd been talking about if his life had depended on it.

He only quietened when midnight drew too close to ignore. Stepping into the shallows of the ocean, Tony made to drop Gibbs' hand. Stubbornly, the man refused to release it and reacted to Tony's attempt to do so by tightening his grip further.

Then the change came and they were separated by force.

Tony scrunched his eyes up and clamped his teeth together throughout. When the change subsided, he breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes once more. Gibbs was kneeling beside him, looking as frightened as Tony had ever seen him. He also had the darkest look in his eyes that made Tony almost feel sorry for Ari if Gibbs ever got his hands on him.

Knowing it must be rather disconcerting to watch your lover turn into a swan, Tony made a reassuring noise and batted his beak against Gibbs' leg. At once, Gibbs reached a hand out to stroke his neck and, shamelessly, Tony revelled in the attention.

Without asking, Gibbs gathered Tony in his arms and lifted him bodily. Letting out a startled squawk at the action, Tony nonetheless settled in Gibbs' hands peacefully as the other man carried him gently back to his house.

"Nice feathers," Gibbs teased as he walked, stroking Tony continuously, "Very soft."

Tony nipped him lightly for that, secretly rather pleased. He had to admit, if he had to be turned into anything a swan wasn't probably too bad. It could have been much worse –he could have been turned into a frog. Or a dung beetle.

"Watch it," Gibbs chastised in response to the bite, tapping Tony's head lightly with two fingers. The strange version of the head slap turned into a stroke almost immediately and Tony made a happy little sound.

Gibbs carried him all the way back to his house, going so far to transport him upstairs to bed. Tony had to have been bothering him by then (a full grown swan was hardly light, after all) but Gibbs showed no sign of strain and lowered him with the utmost care and caution, arranging the covers of his bed into a more comfortable position.

"Never slept with a swan before," he commented wryly as he climbed in.

Tony, of course, took that as permission to all but sit on top of Gibbs as he made himself comfortable. After a little awkwardness, he found himself nestled closely against Gibbs' ribs, his long white neck curled in a relaxed position on Gibbs' chest, rising and falling in time with Gibbs' breathing.

Almost unconsciously, Gibbs raised a hand to rest it on the top of Tony's head, His thumb stroked the small feathers there idly and it was to that gentle motion that Tony fell into sleep.

Despite his change and the problems it caused, he fell asleep that night sated and loved and optimistic about the future.

Secure in the knowledge that nothing could sully their happiness.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read, please review. :)


	13. Interlude: Tim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two parts today so if you jumped right here, go back and read the previous chapter "A Conversation Without Words." Otherwise, enjoy!

  
**Interlude: Tim**   
_In which things fall apart._   


The sun caught on the glass and sparkled beautifully as it streamed through to fill the hallways with dappled light.

Tim couldn't help but pause before it, turning his face to that warmth and idly admiring the view. From such a vantage point the ocean was just barely glimpsed and his thoughts, as they often did, wandered to Tony.

It wasn't far from midday now and soon Tony would be shedding the abnormal skin Ari had forced him to don and taking his first steps of the day as himself.

It was ridiculous to feel envy for a man so thoroughly cursed but Tim felt it anyway. He sometimes wished he could experience what Tony did –the thrill of sailing through water, the danger inherent in flying, the bravery he exulted effortlessly dealing with it all. Tony was the strongest man Tim had ever known and he couldn't help but admire the strength Tony displayed just by living as best he could.

It was more than Tim could do.

He didn't know how Tony escaped it. Tim never did. No matter what he tried, that lingering sense of fear dogged him constantly. Then again, perhaps Tony didn't escape it any more than Tim did. Perhaps he was merely better at burring it so deep that it couldn't be touched. Perhaps that was the only way he managed to cope.

Sudden singing rent the air and, distracted, Tim turned reflexively to the badge attached to the cuff of his sleeve. A very simple enchantment, Abby was in possession of its twin and would activate the spell whenever there was a matter than had to be taken care of. Usually this involved the comings and goings of the hotel guests but occasionally it dealt with cleaning up messes the children had accidently made or dealing with a pressing problem.

A simple touch deactivated it and Tim set back to work, making his way down to the foyer of the hotel, his brief respite over.

Abby greeted him joyfully, having no regard at all for professionalism.

Tim had eyes only for her, and thus, hardly did any better. It was moments like this that he remembered why he felt so drawn to her. Her unquenchable enthusiasm was contagious and just being around her made Tim feel somehow lighter, even though nothing had really been solved. It served to make her somehow more desirable every time he saw her.

"This man is checking in," Abby was explaining in an excited rush and Tim hastened to pay attention even as he hid a fond grin. Abby always loved receiving new guests and had a habit of treating them like Christmas presents to enthusiastically unwrap, "What was your name again?"

The man turned, and his face was as handsome as his smile was deadly.

"Ari," he answered smoothly, "Ari Haswari."

Then everything went black.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and review (and don't kill me ^^)


	14. The Moment Between Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony enjoys the calm before the storm and Gibbs is secretly a big softie.

  
_Everything was perfect_  
 _The whole world was just divine_  
 _Served upon a silver platter_  
 _With the sweetest vintage wine._  
 _My heart was light and happy_  
 _The sky alight with laughter_  
 _And I was sure that we had captured_  
 _Our 'happily ever after'_  
 _And how can something so pure_  
 _Something so absolutely right_  
 _Ever sour or go astray_  
 _And darken into night?_  
 _How can something beautiful_  
 _As abstract as fine art_  
 _Come to fall so suddenly_  
 _And utterly apart?_

**Chapter Eleven: The Moment Between Moments**

Tony was having one of those days where it seemed absolutely nothing could go wrong.

The sun was shining brightly in the pristine blue sky, the sea butted gently against the flanks of the boat and the man Tony loved and had made love with the night before was by his side.

Yelling orders and delivering head slaps, but one couldn't have everything.

Besides, the tender looks and absent touches more than made up for the unwarranted (in Tony's humble opinion) violence against his head. Though Gibbs had always been surprisingly affectionate, today he seemed even more so, gravitating around Tony as unobtrusively but as deniably as the moon circled the earth.

Tony sunk the attention up like a sponge and found himself orbiting Gibbs in return so that they danced around each other intricately, coming together then drawing apart before repeating the cycle all over again.

When the sun began to set and they began to navigate their way back to the docks, Tony found himself brimming with a quiet contentment that seemed to suffuse his whole body. His eyes lingered on Gibbs' form and he couldn't wait until they made it back to Gibbs' house. He was looking for a repeat of last night.

Gibbs, as though he was able to read his thoughts, shot him a wicked smile in return.

Docking the Kelly, they dismounted together and Tony found Gibbs' hand around his waist between one eye blink and the next. Gibbs fingers stroked Tony's hip idly and Tony tried to lean into that touch as much as he lent into the solidity of Gibbs' body.

"Good day?" Joseph asked them congenially, eyeing them with some curiosity. Obviously he could sense the change between them and wondered at it.

"Brilliant day," Tony answered for the both of them, smiling widely and keeping his secrets deliciously to himself.

Joseph let it go with a mere tilt of his head, cataloguing their catchment of the day with an efficient flurry as he did so. Despite his busy work, however, he continued to shoot the two of them assessing looks surreptitiously, to the point where Tony began to wonder if perhaps they had little miniature hearts floating out of the tops of their heads.

The thought was an amusing one, and Tony occupied himself with imagining such a scenario and, mainly, Gibbs' expression if he were to catch sight of such hearts.

It was only when Gibbs gave him a soft tug that he snapped himself out of his daze, hefting up a crate and giving a congenial nod to Joseph as he left, trotting happily after Gibbs and staying as close as was possible with both of his hands full.

"We're not very subtle," Tony couldn't help but observe aloud as they walked.

"No need to be," Gibbs shrugged, glaring at Jimmy Palmer as the younger man walked by and eyed Tony longingly. The poor boy all but tripped over himself to hasten away from the force of Gibbs' glare and Tony laughed.

"I think he got the message," Tony said dryly, grinning.

"Second 'b' stands for 'bastard'," Gibbs informed him factually, "And your mine."

"Perhaps you'd like to tattoo that on my forehead?" Tony suggested facetiously, " _'Property of Jethro Gibbs'_."

When Gibbs actually looked thoughtful, as though he was taking that suggestion under advisement, Tony hastily amended it.

"But that would be far too long. Not to mention invasive and painful. I've enough marks without adding to them intentionally, thank you very much."

"Wouldn't fit," Gibbs allowed, "And it's  _Leroy_  Jethro Gibbs, by the way."

Tony came to a halt. Distracted by this, Gibbs slowed to a stop and turned to raise an eyebrow. Tony was too busy grinning to see the challenge there.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," Tony echoed, deliciously prolonging each word, "Seriously? Your parents hated you, right?"

"Family name," Gibbs explained, smiling wryly.

"God," Tony shook his head, finally recovering enough to continue walking. Something the weight of the crate contributed to immensely. "I'm beginning to understand why this didn't come up sooner. I couldn't imagine volunteering that information willingly."

"Haven't been given shit about my name for a long time," Gibbs said idly, shooting Tony a sly look, "You gonna give it a try?"

"Hell no," Tony blurted at once, knowing that the reason no one had done it recently was because they hadn't had a death wish.

"Good," Gibbs decreed, "Not like you can talk. Tony  _Swan_. Really?"

"Tim's idea," Tony protested, "He thinks he's funny."

Gibbs snorted and, balancing the crate, opened his front door one-handed and ushered Tony before him. Tony put the box in the kitchen and set to unpacking it, storing the contents into a small freezer. Gibbs grabbed the both of them a beer from the fridge and handed one to Tony before pitching in. Between them, the task was done in no time.

Taking a swig from his beer bottle, Tony kept his eyes on Gibbs, ready to follow his lead. Usually they'd spend their evenings either building the boat or snuggling on the couch and while Tony wouldn't mind either of those activities, he was curious as to how the progression of their relationship would impact on their day-to-day routines, if it even did at all.

Oddly enough, Gibbs didn't emerge from the kitchen. Instead, he began rummaging through the top cabinets, clearly searching for something.

"Bit early for dinner," Tony pointed out, assuming Gibbs was looking for food.

Gibbs didn't reply but Tony found that no reply was necessary. Instead, the object he finally pulled forth cleared things up better than Gibbs could have done.

"A picnic basket?" Tony asked incredulously, "We're going on a picnic?"

The basket had the faded remains of a ribbon wound through the handle and Tony suspected that it had once belonged to Shannon or Kelly. He also suspected it likely hadn't been used since then.

"You mentioned once you wanted to sail the water at night," Gibbs replied, starting to fill the basket with food.

Tony struggled to remember when exactly he'd said that but found he couldn't quite place it. He had a habit of babbling on and even he lost track of what the hell came out of his mouth. The idea that Gibbs could be keeping track was both sweet and slightly alarming.

"We're going back onto the boat?" Tony checked, pleased, "Why did we even come back?"

"Can't eat the planks," Gibbs pointed out, gesturing to the basket.

"True," Tony granted, "But I thought sailing at night was dangerous?"

"It is," Gibbs agreed, "Which is why we won't be going out far. Still interested?"

"Hell yeah," Tony shot back at once, grinning.

"Good," Gibbs replied, grinning back, "Then get your shit together and start helping me pack."

Tossing off a sloppy salute, Tony did exactly that, gathering things around the house he thought they might need. Though it would be hell to carry, he couldn't help but snag a few blankets out of the cupboard, along with some lube and a pack of tissues, just in case.

Then, the most important things packed, he scurried back downstairs where Gibbs was closing up the basket. He caught sight of the pile of blankets in Tony's arms and nodded approvingly, hefting the basket up as he did so.

"Are we staying out until midnight?" Tony asked curiously as Gibbs gestured him towards the door, "We'll already be on the water after all."

"And force me to carry this back by myself?" Gibbs pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"That's three different trips to the water," Tony couldn't help but complain, "In one day."

"We can always skip the midnight picnic, if you prefer?" Gibbs asked wryly, pausing as he closed the door behind him, the threat implicit.

"And miss the spectacle of you being all romantic?" Tony mock gasped, "Not on your life!"

Gibbs rolled his eyes but obligingly shut the door behind him. They made their way down to the ocean peacefully, and Tony enjoyed just how slow and smooth it was. There was no hurry, no urgency, just the knowledge that the ocean wasn't going anywhere and wouldn't mind if they took their time. The only thing missing was Gibbs' arm around his arm but considering that both their hands were occupied carrying supplies, that wasn't to be helped.

Tony paused only slightly as they passed Semper Inn, half hoping to see Tim hovering on its doorstep like the anxious mother hen he was. The streets were empty, though, and Tony absently reminded himself to visit his pseudo brother the next day –if only to bother him about Abby.

"We picked a good night for it," Gibbs noted in pleasure, scanning the clear night sky above them as he ushered Tony onto the Kelly.

At just past seven, it was finally getting dark enough for the stars to start popping up. Once it got later, the sight was sure to be quite impressive. Though he'd probably seen the sea reflecting the stars a half dozen times since he'd been turned into a swan, he'd never done so with Gibbs by his side. Something told him that would make all the difference.

Working together with a fluidity that had come from practice, the two of them worked together to disengage the Kelly from the dock and out into the ocean. True to his word, Gibbs didn't take them far out –just far enough to leave the shallow waters and to be free of the surrounding boats. When the Kelly was surrounded by clear, deep water on all side he dropped the anchor. Tony, taking this as his cue, pulled out the blanket and fluffed it out over the wooden planks, quickly making himself comfortable. Gibbs joined him moments later and, as one, they lay back and looked at the stars, watching as they became more and more numerous. Without speaking, Tony entwined their hands.

"What are you thinking?"

It was such an uncharacteristic question that Tony answered without thinking.

"Just that I wish I could freeze time and stay here forever."

Gibbs gifted him with a fond look, pressing a soft kiss against his temple.

"While you're there wishing for stuff, may as well wish yourself rid of that curse," he pointed out.

"I've tried that," Tony rebutted wryly, "And besides, not everything about a cure would be wonderful. If I was free, I'd have to leave."

"Why?" Gibbs asked curiously, "What's there for you to return to?"

"The thing that the sorcerer is trying to steal," Tony answered at last, trying to be more specific and finding himself unable to be. He huffed irritably.

"You left it behind?" Gibbs wondered and, even not seeing him, Tony knew he was frowning.

"Yes," Tony agreed before frowning himself, "Only no. Not really. It isn't really something I can leave."

"And yet it's something you can give," Gibbs pointed out, sounding frustrated. Tony could relate. "Or at least something someone can take."

"I'm sorry," he signed at last, "I can't explain it very well. I'm  _not_  explaining it very well. I just know it to be true: if I was free, I couldn't stay. I wouldn't be able to stay."

"I'm not angry, Tony," Gibbs assured, squeezing his hand, "Just frustrated. I want to help you and the secrecy makes that difficult. If I only knew  _why_ , it would be easier."

Tony wanted to tell him that it wasn't Gibbs' job to save him, it wasn't up to him to pull him out of the mess Tony had found himself stuck in. He managed to refrain, but only barely. He knew before trying that saying as such wouldn't do him a lick of good and pushing would just start and argument that neither of them could win.

"Look," Gibbs said suddenly, drawing their hands up together and abandoning the topic altogether, "A shooting star. Maybe you'll get what you want after all."

"You're what I want," Tony replied honestly and it should have been cheesy but it wasn't. Perhaps because it was true. The kingdom was Tony's responsibility and if he were free of the curse there was no way he could abandon it to Tobias... but, had he the choice, he'd give it away in a heartbeat for Gibbs.

He wishes it were so easy.  
  


*~*~*~*~*

As it turned out, they hadn't needed the lube.

Instead, they spent the hours staring at the stars simply talking. Tony spoke about his childhood and the stark loneliness of it with only Tim providing any sense of relief. He learned about Gibbs' childhood in turn, growing up in a place called Stillwater with his father, Jackson.

"You miss him," Tony had marvelled, hearing Gibbs talk of the man.

"Maybe I do," Gibbs admitted, sounding just as surprised. Considering that he'd run away from home to become a soldier Tony guessed (accurately, as it turned out) that there was a veritable well of unexplored issues there.

Tony spoke about losing his mother as a child and Gibbs recounted the same. When they weren't talking about their pasts, they chatted about nothing at all, counting the stars, musing about the constellations, eating the picnic and simply enjoying each other's company.

It wasn't sex but, somehow, it still managed to be the most intimate thing Tony had ever done. Had he not been utterly in love with Gibbs already, those few hours together would have damned him completely.

"We should head back," Gibbs sighed as it neared ten o'clock and Tony began to really feel the cold.

Though reluctant to leave the perfect solace of this space and this moment, Tony also recognised that it wasn't a request. Grudgingly, he pulled himself to his feet and began to pack the picnic away. Only when the boat was pristine did Gibbs design to raise the anchor and steer them back to port.

"Thank you," Tony said as they disembarked, once more taking Gibbs hand in his, "Really."

Gibbs drew him into a kiss by way of answer , tilting his head just so in order to better pillage his mouth. Tony went utterly lax against him, returning the kiss with interest.

"Come on," Gibbs prompted, drawing himself back slightly, "Your freezing and I can think of a dozen or so ways to fix that."

Tony felt a good deal warmer just from the rough promise in Gibbs voice. Grinning at the man delightedly, Tony allowed himself to be led back to Gibbs' house, body pressed flush against his the whole while. Or at least as much as possible carrying the picnic supplies.

Pulling the door open, Gibbs ushered Tony inside, quickly following after him. Tony, still flushed with desire, made his way straight to the kitchen to put the things away, Gibbs right on his heels.

He got as far as the living room before his body exploded in pain.

 

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_**To Be Continued...** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read? Please review! :)


	15. The Beginning in the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ari is a bastard, Tony faces his fears, Gibbs is a stubborn SOB and an epilogue is had.

  
_Here we are_   
_(At last)_   
_With nothing_   
_Left to say_   
_Only the question_   
_And the wondering_   
_If this hides_   
_The beginning_   
_In the end_   
_Or the end_   
_In the beginning._

**Chapter Twelve: The Beginning in the End**

Agony.

It raced through ever particle of Tony, every molecule. Tony could hear himself screaming but the sound was distant and far away, as though in another world completely. While in truth the pain lasted only a moment, just long enough to bring Tony to his knees, it seemed to stretch out over time itself, taking up centuries before cutting itself off completely.

"Anthony," Ari (of course it was Ari, who else could it be?) greeted softly, "I trust I have your attention?"

Tony, gasping for breath as he was, still had enough sense to look around for Gibbs. He found the man not three feet away, having been forced to his knees by two guards. He was gazing at Ari with eyes so furious that it was a wonder the man didn't drop dead on the spot.

"You could say that," Tony managed, replying at last to Ari's question.

"I see my curse has made my mark on you," Ari noted pleasantly, running a fingertip down Tony's bruised cheek, "They suit you."

"Fuck off," Tony retorted at once. Ari actually tutted at him.

"Such language," he scolded, "You should be thanking me, Anthony. I could have punished you far more harshly than I just did. Your escape was a complication I didn't need."

Tony decided not to reply to that one. He hoped his incredulous expression spoke for him.

"I hope we can put all this foolishness aside," Ari continued, "All I need is an answer, Tony. Just one word and this can be over. Don't you want the curse to stop? Don't you want to go home? All you need to say is yes."

"Never," Tony spat. Ari made a displeased noise.

"So stubborn," he noted, frowning slightly now, "I have other ways to persuade you, Anthony. Bring him in."

The last statement wasn't directed at him but, before he had much time to wonder, Tim was being dragged kicking and swearing into the room. Tony clenched his fists seeing him, filled with fear for his friend. It didn't help matters that Tim looked horrible.

"Tony!" he cried, seeing him, trying to wrench himself away only to fail, "I'm so sorry! I told them were you were Tony. I told them! I didn't mean to but –"

"That's quite enough of that," Ari interrupted, holding up a single hand.

Tim fell silent at once. Tony tried to pull himself to his feet, tried to fight, only to find himself frozen solidly in place. Ari, whose eyes were closed now, had a look of deep concentration on his face. When he opened them seconds later, his eyes were brimming with power.

"You can release them now," he told the guards mildly, "I've locked them all into place."

Obediently the guards backed away. Tony looked at them, counting five in all. He knew three of the five by name.

"Ziva?" he asked weakly, focusing on the guard he knew best, had trusted most, "Ziva, why?"

The woman met his eyes for a moment before flushing and looking shamefully away. She bit her lip hard enough to turn it white and said nothing at all.

"I see you've met my half sister," Ari sounded delighted, as though they were at a tea party, "How lovely. That saves me the hassle of introducing you."

Ziva flinched but Tony was too busy gaping to pay her that much mind. Half sister? Well shit.

"Ziva's presence here it two-fold," Ari informed him happily, "You see, my dear sister spent long enough learning from me that she picked up enough to perform marriage ceremonies. Don't even have to track down a priest. All you have to do is say the word and she'll marry us here and now."

"Marry?" Gibbs cut in, speaking for the first time, " _That's_  why you cursed him? He wouldn't marry you?"

"And who the hell are you?" Ari demanded, sufficiently distracted.

"He's no one," Tony put in hastily, "Nothing."

Ari grinned suddenly and Tony cursed. Apparently he sucked ass at lying.

"Now why don't I believe that?" he asked Tony aloud, "Perhaps I didn't need Tim after all. Or I could kill them both. I suppose it depends on how long you hold out. You might not want to deliberate that long Tony. Only a couple hours until midnight, after all."

"I can't," Tony protested, "Please. I'm begging you."

"You can and you will," Ari returned, firmly, "I don't want you to beg, Anthony. I want you to submit. Agree to marry me or I shall kill them both. If watching them die slowly doesn't drive you to agree to my terms then I'm sure being locked inside a small room miles away from water just might. My point is this: you will agree eventually. It's up to you how much blood I spill before then."

Tony felt his eyes brim with tears, so helpless he felt liable to explode with it. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to keep himself in check only to find the tears spilling over.

"Stop it," Gibbs broke in, angry and alive and infuriating, "Leave him alone."

"I still don't know who you are," Ari pointed out, "Or who Anthony is to you."

"The man I love," Gibbs replied, proud and unwavering.

"Love," Ari echoed, letting out a laugh, "Did you hear that Anthony? This man thinks himself in love with you. And do you love him back, pet?"

Tony said nothing but he couldn't stop his silent tears and the thought of Gibbs throwing himself onto Ari's sword wasn't exactly helping. Which was probably why Ari didn't need an answer. One look at Tony told him everything he needed to know.

"You do," he breathed, his eyes darkening, "You love him. You reject me, a powerful sorcerer and lord but this man, this  _nothing_ , has earned your love?"

Ari turned to look at Gibbs in disbelief but Gibbs gave him no answers. He merely knelt there, held in place by Ari's magic and utterly unafraid.

"Do you even know who he is?" Ari demanded furiously, "This man you claim to love?"

"I don't need to know," Gibbs answered calmly, "And I won't let you have him. He isn't yours to have. He belongs to me."

"Let me have him?" Ari parroted, voice wavering in his anger, " _Let_  me have him?"

He gave a cry, holding out a hand and snarling. Tony's heart skipped a beat, waiting for Gibbs to start screaming. For the man he loved to burst into flames or drop dead where he knelt. But what happened next was so unexpected that Tony was struck momentarily dumb by it.

Gibbs didn't move.

Ari, with his arm outstretched and his face screwed up, looked as startled as Tony felt. For a brief second, he stared at Gibbs with complete confusion, simply unable to comprehend what was happening.

Taking swift advantage of that confusion, Gibbs leapt into action.

Then everything happened at once.

Ari gave a cry of mingled shock and rage as he fell beneath Gibbs' weight and the guards, previously motionless, were suddenly moving. Tony found himself seized by four hands before he even realized he could move. His eyes flicked over to Tim to find the other man in the same position, only he was struggling so violently that one of the guards had drawn a knife and was a second away from slitting Tim's throat.

Before he could strike, the guard dropped, felled by a knife in the side. His partner followed a split second later, leaving Tim panting on the ground in shock. Ziva, holding a bloodstained knife and standing above him, appeared just as surprised as he did.

Meanwhile, Gibbs had wrestled Ari to the floor and was in the process of beating the sorcerer to a bloody pulp. Ari was fighting back admirably well but was handicapped by the loss of his magic, which had been failing spectacularly at subduing Gibbs. When he was further distracted the betrayal of his half sister, Gibbs took advantage. One second, they'd been evenly matched and the next Gibbs had a knife poised at Ari's throat.

"Let Tony go or I kill him right now," Gibbs demanded hoarsely, digging the blade in just enough to draw blood.

Obediently, the guards holding Tony backed off and Ziva immediately head over to force them to their knees and bind their limbs with the rope she had on hand.

Glad to be free, Tony stood up and stretched himself out, taking a long look at Ari. The man was spitting with fury, his eyes locked on Ziva.

"You dare betray me?" he demanded, "You  _dare_?"

"Tony does not deserve this curse Ari," Ziva put in quietly, shooting Tony an uneasy look. Since the girl had just saved his life, Tony was in a rather forgiving mood and took her hand comfortingly, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "He is a good man."

"You're my  _sister_ ," Ari protested, as though Ziva could have forgotten such a thing.

"Not anymore," Ziva replied softly, sounding honestly heartbroken. As a sign of support, Tim took up her free hand and stood beside her. Clearly appreciating their support, Ziva shot them each a small smile.

"You've lost, Ari," Gibbs put in, knife never wavering, "The only chance you have to leave this room alive is to lift Tony's curse."

"The curse can't be lifted," Ari spat back vindictively, "The only way to break it is for him to place his hands in mine and swear in front of a priest and God that he belongs to me."

"Can't we marry them and then kill him?" Tim demanded, making a face.

"My magic would bind them heart and soul," Ziva disputed, "Killing one would kill the other."

"So we find a priest," Tim returned logically, "One without magic."

"No!" Ari spat, struggling in Gibbs' hold but only serving to press himself further into Gibbs' knife and spill more of his life's blood. "You try and I'll kill us both."

"Try," Gibbs dared, "You won't be able to break my hold."

"You forget!" he cried back, his eyes mad, "Tony is mine! Under my spell! Bound to me! I don't need my hands for this!"

Tony fell to the ground so suddenly he brought Ziva and Tim along with him. Unable to stay silent, he parted his lips and screamed through the agony lacing through him. Rather than being distributed evenly throughout his body, however, this pain seemed to hone in on his chest. Not only was it now a thousand times harder to draw breath but Tony could also feel his heart straining to beat, being forcibly slowed.

Then the pain was gone and Ari was dead.

Gasping, Tony only just managed to raise his head, taking in Ari's slit throat and Gibbs' blood soaked knife in a single glance. Pressing a hand to his chest, Tony ignored the implications of that and focused on breathing.

"He wanted you to do that," Tim said softly, finally breaking the silence, "Now there's no chance to break the curse."

"Better cursed than dead," Tony quipped, still rubbing his chest uncomfortably.

Dropping the knife where he sat, Gibbs was on his feet and over to Tony's side faster than a bolt of lightning. Tony sank into his arms gratefully, not even minding the blood the man was currently covered with.

"You okay?" Gibbs checked, gripping Tony tight enough to be slightly painful.

"Exhausted," Tony admitted, feeling like he'd been trampled by a heard of bulls, "But still breathing. How come Ari's magic didn't work on you?"

Drawing away slightly, Gibbs fumbled with his neck and drew out the necklace that lay under his shirt. Tony blinked at it curiously. Though he'd noticed it before, he'd never really looked at it. Made of what appeared to be iron was a small circle. It would be rather plain were it not for the fact that every millimetre of the object was covered in tiny writing.

Ziva made a small, surprised sound.

"That's Luna's Circle," she breathed, her eyes wide, "It wards off magic. One who wears it cannot be touched.  _Where_  did you get it?"

Tony gathered that they couldn't be picked up from the corner shop. Since he didn't have one (and as a crown prince he really should have), they must be exceedingly rare.

"Wasn't easy," Gibbs agreed dryly, "But my wife and daughter were murdered by a sorcerer. Wasn't going to face their killer defenceless."

"And you couldn't have acted sooner?" Tim demanded, raising his hands beseechingly.

"He had to wait for the right moment," Tony said in his defence, "Ari would have lashed out at me sooner had Gibbs not taken him by surprise."

The look in Gibbs' eyes conveyed just how hard the man had found that to do. For a man like Gibbs, a man who had lost his family once before, watching Tony in pain would have been agonising. To show him he wasn't mad (and partly to remind Gibbs that he was still here) Tony pressed a quick kiss against Gibbs' temple.

"But what about the curse?" Tim asked, voice cracking, "You can't live with it forever. It'll drive you mad."

"I might be able to break it," Ziva offered, "I can at least try."

"You can?" Tony asked, attention caught, "How?"

"Since it is a blood curse and I am of Ari's blood, I think I can trick it," she explained, "But I'll need to marry you."

"I'll marry him," Gibbs said at once, not even pausing.

"But... you don't even know who I am!" Tony protested reflexively, "Not really. And I still can't tell you. You'd be entering into this blind Gibbs. I can't let you do that."

"I love you," Gibbs replied simply, already taking his necklace off, "Whatever secrets you have are irrelevant. They can't make me love you any less."

"Good," Ziva approved, bypassing Tony's expression, "We'll need to be by Ari's body for this."

Without so much as a by-your-leave, Gibbs lifted Tony bodily from the ground and carried him the few feet required to reach the body. Letting out an indignant squawk, Tony clutched Gibbs tightly and held on for dear life.

"I could have walked!" he argued when Gibbs lowered him carefully back to the ground.

"If you could see yourself in a mirror right now you wouldn't argue," Gibbs shot back, drawing Tony against himself, "You look terrible."

Ziva and Tim joined them and, pulling out a clean knife, Ziva quickly set to work. She cut into Ari's palm, coaxing the blood to the surface.

"Your hand," she requested of Tony and, grimacing, Tony complied. After everything else he'd felt that night, he barely even noticed the cut in comparison though he did blanch when Ziva pressed his bloody hand into Ari's.

"Hold tight," she cautioned and Tony reluctantly obeyed. Tony's other palm was also cut and pressed to Gibbs' own cut palm. Ziva then sliced both her own palms, followed by both Gibbs and Ari's free hands. She then clutched Ari's hand with her left and Gibbs' with her right.

"You'll need to act as a witness," she told Tim who nodded solemnly, "Okay then."

Ziva closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Seconds later, Tony let out a surprised gasp as both his hands began to tingle.

"Do you both consent to be bound?" she asked them, eyes still closed. "To belong to the other body, spirit and soul, until you die as one?"

"Yes," Gibbs replied instantly. Tony looked his way only to find Gibbs staring right back. His eyes were filled with trust and a love so pure that Tony was humbled by it. How was he possibly supposed to refuse such a thing?

"Yes," Tony echoed back, his heart catching.

"Witness, can you speak to their consent and their clarity of mind?"

"Yes," Tim agreed after a brief pause, "I can."

"In the name of Ari Haswari, whose blood I share and whose hand I clasp, I bound these two in the name of this land and before God. What I have woven together let no man tear asunder."

So saying, Ziva began to chant furiously under her breath. Tony didn't even try to follow what she was saying, instead more occupied with watching Gibbs watch him. The tingling in his hand was getting worse as Ziva spoke, building to a brief stabbing pain and then ceasing altogether. Cutting herself off abruptly, Ziva slumped.

"It is done," Ziva declared, visibly drained. Pulling his hand back from Ari's corpse, Tony checked his palm. Apart from a scar so faint it could barely be seen, there was no sign of an injury at all.

"Did it work?" Tim wondered tentatively.

"No way to tell for certain," Ziva admitted, "We must wait for midnight. It isn't far off."

"I just got married," Tony managed, a little stunned, "My father is going to freak."

"I thought your father was dead?" Gibbs shot back, arching a brow.

"He's not," Tony confided, a trifle guiltily, "You'll hate him."

Snorting, Gibbs pulled Tony into a kiss so passionate that Tony forgot all about his fatigue. Sinking into Gibbs' arms, he let himself go, relishing the rush that came with submitting so completely. Things were getting a little too heated (with the very real risk that they were about to forget all about their audience) when Tim cleared his throat uncomfortably, drawing them apart.

"Its past midnight," he informed them, blushing a brilliant red.

"I'm still me!" Tony completed the thought, patting himself down as if to be certain.

"Thank god for that," Tim breathed, slumping in relief.

"It'll be nice to get an explanation," Gibbs said pointedly.

"And we need to contact the king," Ziva added, "He hasn't stopped searching since you vanished."

"The king?" Gibbs repeated, blinking, "You had the  _king_  searching for you?"

"The king is my father," Tony revealed hesitantly, "You just married the crown prince of Fidelis."

Gibbs sat back, staring at Tony like he'd just admitted to having three heads. Then his eyes narrowed.

"You," he began dangerously, "Have a  _lot_  of explaining to do."

"I know," Tony agreed miserably, "Well. It all started –"

"Not now," Gibbs dismissed firmly, "Later. Much later.  _After_  I've ripped all your clothes off and fucked you six ways from Sunday."

So saying he swept Tony off the floor and out of the room, not so much as bidding Tony and Ziva goodbye. Wisely saying nothing, Tony mulled over Gibbs words and relaxed into Gibbs' hold with a smile.

He could live with that.  
  


*~*~ **Epilogue** ~*~*  
 _(m-preg warning ahoy! Look away now if that's not your thing.)_

It was summer.

Outside the castle window, the grounds stretched on forever: green and lush and filled with flowers. Leaning against the window sill, Tony looked down at the palace garden and sighed.

He was dressed casually that day, forgoing the finery that was his usual attire. The only thing he wore worth stealing was the gold ring on his finger, glinting in the sunlight as Tony flexed his wrist.

"Do you know what day this is?"

Behind him, Gibbs started. Glancing away from the window, Tony favoured him with a scolding look. Gibbs might be whisper quiet but he couldn't sneak up on Tony, who knew him better than he knew himself. To his credit, Gibbs at least had the sense to appear adequately chastised. As well he should. This wasn't the first time Tony had caught him hovering and frankly, Tony was getting sick of it. He wasn't made of glass.

"No," Gibbs admitted, approaching to draw Tony into his arms and join him in looking out the window, "What day is it?"

"A year ago today, I walked in that very garden you seen beneath you and got turned into a swan," Tony informed him, leaning into his husband's embrace.

Gibbs tightened his grip slightly, nuzzling into Tony's hair as if to assure himself that Tony was there and whole and healthy.

"Don't think I could have predicted then where I'd be now," Tony confided softly.

"I doubt if anyone could have," Gibbs retuned.

"Regrets?" Tony couldn't help but ask.

"Never," Gibbs vowed before making a face, "Though your father tempts me at times."

Tony laughed. When he'd finally returned to the castle, dressed in rags, bruised to the nines and married to boot, his father had been decidedly Not Pleased. Still, Gibbs and Tony were bound for life so Senior could be as Not Pleased as he liked –the fact of the matter was there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Secretly, Tony took some measure of delight watching his father and husband butt heads. They had very different opinions on how to rule a country and Tony found himself favouring Gibbs' methods more often than not. Years from now, when his father was dead, they'd take the country by storm. Tony could feel it.

"Tim is back tomorrow," Gibbs reminded him lightly, "We can all go sailing together when he gets back."

"Is he bringing Abby back with him?" Tony wondered, turning his head slightly to better address his husband.

"We'll just have to see," Gibbs shrugged, "Wouldn't surprise me."

"He'll move to Semper one day," Tony sighed, an ache going through him. Which was ridiculous. Tim wasn't even gone yet. "Abby will never leave the Inn."

Gibbs hummed his agreement, resting his head on Tony's shoulder and just enjoying the moment free of servants and duties and demanding kings.

"That was probably the worst day of my life, you know," Tony mused quietly, turning his attention back to the gardens, "And yet, I can't be sorry it happened. If not for Ari, we never would have met."

"I can't imagine," Gibbs muttered, "I was half alive before I met you. I would have spent the whole of my life living that way."

"Weird how the bad is so thoroughly entwined in the good. Both our lived changed a year ago. We just didn't quite realize how." Tony grinned suddenly, shooting Gibbs a coy look, "Which makes this an anniversary. We should go celebrate."

Gibbs scoffed out a laugh, tightening a hand on his hip as another reached around to touch his stomach. There was a bit of hesitation in the touch and, huffing, Tony turned around to better face his husband.

"I'm pregnant," Tony drawled, "That doesn't mean I can't have sex."

"Did you ask –"

"Yes I asked the doctor," Tony interrupted swiftly, rolling his eyes, "I was so clear about what I was asking that I made  _her_  blush. She said it may become a problem later but not for a good while. Which is lucky because I'm  _not_ going nearly eight months without sex."

Gibbs looked so love struck that it was hard to be mad at him. He'd known Tony had been pregnant for over a week now and had been so attentive and mothering that Tony was about ready to bash him over the head. Since he was only a month or so along, his possessive tendencies probably wouldn't die off any time soon either.

It was very possible that Tony would end up killing him.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Gibbs told him in a rare fit of expressing his feelings. It might be the only thing Tony liked about being pregnant –it turned Gibbs into a sentimental ball of mush who let Tony get away with pretty much anything. Something Tony was enjoying taking blatant advantage of.

"You should show me how grateful you are," Tony suggested hopefully.

Gibbs laughed, pressing a kiss against Tony's cheek. Tony took this as the agreement it was and grinned as he tangled his hand with his husband's, allowing the other man to lead him to bed.

Before he was pulled away completely, he took one last look back at the garden and all that it represented. As he turned a corner, just before it blinked out of sight, he was sure he saw a swan land in the palace pond: brilliant, bright and beautiful.

Just like their future.  
  


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_**The End** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! If you managed to make it this far, thank you for your continued interest and support. Special mention to all those who left praise and incentives to continue -it was much appreciated.
> 
> On that note, if you enjoyed this story please leave a review. 
> 
> Until next time! :)

**Author's Note:**

> More will be up shortly. If you read, please review.


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